Down to Earth
by The-Suburban-Guy
Summary: Pubescence! It's terrible enough for normal teens; imagine what it's like to cope with lycanthropy, vampirism, or having to constantly fight off the forces of heaven and hell. Sam and Dean (and Gus!) continue battling destiny and trying to have some semblance of normalcy in this continuation to the Heaven Sent AU storyline.
1. C-C-C-Changes

**Chapter 1: C-C-C-Changes**

Upon returning to North Plains Bobby set to building a safe room in his basement. Like the fallout shelter craze of the 1950s, this was a large concrete bunker with only one door-heavily reinforced-thick walls (clad in iron sheets), and some sparse furnishings to wait out disaster. Unlike the typical fallout shelter, this safe room was designed to keep things in _and_ out. The door handle was detachable from either side, meaning that the door could effectively be turned into a one-way entry, where people could easily enter, but not exit or vice versa.

"Well, it's done. We're cutting it close, but we should be okay. Tonight's the full moon." Bobby anxiously glanced at the mid-day sun as he spoke, Castiel on the other end of the telephone call.

"So far Sam hasn't changed, and to my knowledge werewolves usually shift multiple nights close to each peak of the lunar cycle." Cas hoped that perhaps in this case Sam would not change, having some sort of immunity because of his demon blood. He nervously twirled the phone cord as he looked at Sam sitting in the other room before he paused and looked down at the cord-_Why am I fidgeting? It must be part of the human condition, given how I appear to be doing it subconsciously._

"True, but not always. Sometimes it takes a full moon to force a change for the first time-it's rare, but so is a kid with demon blood getting bit by a werewolf." Bobby sighed, exasperated at the seemingly increasingly improbable series of events his life had become.

"Do we know he will chance? I know little about the interactions of demons and other species' genetics. Is it possible he may avoid becoming a werewolf?" Cas voiced his hope, though he feared Bobby's response.

"Maybe, but I honestly don't know. In any case, bring the boys over tonight. Sam can spend the night in the basement bunker and the rest of us can check on him to make sure he's alright."

"Okay. We'll be over by eight." Cas sighed as he hung up the phone and glanced at the three boys arguing over how to assemble a Lego pirate ship. Tonight was going to be a challenge.

It was 7:57 when the Toyota pulled into Bobby's driveway. Cas stepped out of the passenger seat into the warm July air as Dean unbelted Sam, then himself. After the two exited Gus unbuckled and scooted past Dean's booster.

"Can we please trade seats? I hate being stuck in the middle. Sam's the smallest; he should ride on the hump." Gus stretched his leg as he exited the car.

"His car-seat buckles from the right. It has to be where it is. And there's no way in hell I'm sitting bitch." Dean plodded across the lawn towards Bobby's front porch, "That's your job as the middle kid."

Gus rolled his eyes as he joined Dean on the porch. Cas and Sam were following behind, with Cas carrying the exhausted boy. Despite being out of the hospital for multiple days Sam seemed constantly tired. That, coupled with the fear of turning and accidentally hurting someone had driven Sam into a high-strung mess that even Dean and Cas couldn't seem to completely cure.

Dean rang the bell and Bobby soon opened the door. "Hey Dean, Gus, Cas." He nodded politely before turning to Sam, who was equal parts tired and frightened. "Hey Sam, how are you?"

Sam unburrowed his face from Cas' neck and turned to face Bobby. Under his eyes were large bags and stress lines, and his mouth was quivering as he tried to keep himself calm. "Bobby, I'm scared. I don't wanna hurt anyone."

Bobby sighed and motioned for Cas to hand him Sam, _come here ya little idjit, _"Sam, it's alright. We're all here for you. You'll be fine, we'll all be fine." He smiled, which seemed to partially reassure the small boy in Superman pajamas. "I built something to keep you safe, here," he shifted the weight of the six-year old, "Let me show you it." Bobby walked through the piles of notes and books heaped in the living room and gingerly stepped down the stairs to the basement. The safe room was in the far corner, next to the workshop. "This is a safe room I built for you. If you change it'll protect you from hurting anyone, and we can still be near you in case something happens." He set him down, "I'm sorry we have to lock you up, but it's only for the night."

"Thank you Bobby." Sam hugged his waist and stood by the door. "Okay, let's get this over with."

The physiological change from human to werewolf is not quick. Nor is it painless. Nor is it pleasant to observe. Watching the body of a loved one twist and convulse as it restructures itself into a werewolf nearly made Dean vomit. Gus did. When the change was over a small brown-furred creature had taken Sam's place and was stalking around the bunker. When it saw the faces peering through the door's sliding peephole it charged and began clawing at the metal. Cas quickly slid the peephole shut before it tried to reach through and scratch at them.

"It appears as though Sam was infected, it just took longer to manifest because of his other condition." Cas stated, crestfallen.

"C'mon boys, let's go upstairs. None of us needs to see this." Bobby placed his hand on Gus' back and began to reach toward Dean.

Dean stepped out of Bobby's reach. "No. he's my brother. I'm staying down here with him."

"Dean, that thing might have been Sam, but it's not him now. It doesn't know you. If it got the chance it would attack you and try to eat your heart…" Bobby lamented, thinking of how the sweet little kid was trapped under a clouded blood-thirsty veil in his own mind and twisted body.

"No. It's Sammy. I know it's him, and I'll prove 'it' is still him!" Dean crossed his arms and sat down against the door, his legs sprawled out against the concrete.

"Okay. You can stay down here, but as a precaution I'm taking this." Bobby pulled the doorknob out of the door. "Now there's no way in or out of that room."

Cas and Bobby walked upstairs, with Gus trailing behind, waving a sad goodnight to Dean. Dean leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes, _God is my life fucked up, _"Well Sammy, I guess I'm gonna be the one talking tonight for once, so get ready to hear all about Dean…"

Dean sat against the door every time Sam was in that room. After the first night he settled into a pattern: Sam would change every full moon and the three days preceding and following it. Seven nights a month he fell asleep on a concrete floor and woke up with bloody fingers as he looked in horror at the claw marks he had scratched into the iron walls and floor. Every night Dean sat and talked. He talked about school, television, sports, his ever-growing cassette collection (_and you've gotta listen to this new one by Zeppelin…), _and anything else that came to mind. Usually it was light, relatively meaningless chatter just to keep his mind busy from the reality that his little brother was clawing desperately at the walls to get out and attack him, but sometimes it got serious. He talked about their parents, how _Mom was awesome and how she loved Sam so fucking much_, and how Dad, _well, he was a bastard. After Mom died he went off and tried to kill the thing that killed her, and in the process turned into a bit of a monster himself. Kinda like Frankenstein, only with us along for the ride_.

It was twenty-three full moons before anything changed. April 28, 1991 was the best night of Dean's life (until a particularly romantic evening in November of 1996). Dean sat down and flipped open a book. Sometimes it was relaxing to just read to Sam instead of talk about stuff, it was hard to come up with stuff to say constantly, and it didn't seem to make a difference. 'The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe' was a favorite of Sam's. He'd already read it a dozen times, but it seemed that no matter how many times he read it he found something new to enjoy. Dean flipped the worn paperback open to the bookmark from last night, "…Everyone looked in and pulled the coats apart; and they all saw-Lucy herself saw-a perfectly ordinary wardrobe. There was no wood and no snow, only the back of the wardrobe, with hooks on it. Peter went in and rapped his knuckles on it to make sure that it was solid…"

Suddenly three metallic knocks echoed on the door.

"Sammy? Was that you?"Dean turned to place his ear flush against the door. _There's no way…_

Another knock.

Dean was overjoyed. "Holy fucking shit!" He paused, thinking of his promise to Cas to swear less, "Err… Holy freaking crap?" No, it wasn't enough, "Whatever, anyway, Sammy, if you understand me one knock for 'yes', two for 'no'."

One knock.

"I'll be back in a second, I need to get Bobby and Gus!" Dean nearly tripped over his legs as he scrambled up the stairs and burst through the basement door before climbing the second flight up to the two bedrooms. It was 1:41, but Dean didn't care.

"Bobby! Bobby!" Dean pushed open Bobby's bedroom door and looked in. Bobby had been sprawled out on the double bed until his cry, causing the former hunter to spring into action, only for his foot to get caught in the comforter, causing him to land on his back on the floor. Dean winced as he entered the room and stood over Bobby. "Uh, hey Bobby…"

When Bobby saw it wasn't an immediate disaster he grunted and sat back on the bed. "Dean it is too goddamn early. Unless we're being attacked or I won the lottery, let me sleep!" He rolled over to his side and shut his eyes, hoping to be left alone.

"Sam understands me."

After getting Gus up from his room-_Gus I don't care if it was with Molly Ringwald, GET UP!-_the three of them stood in the basement outside of the safe room. "Okay Sammy, remember our knocking from earlier?" Dean crossed his fingers and prayed it hadn't been a coincidence.

One knock.

"That means 'yes'." Dean explained, excitedly.

"Sam, is that really you?" Bobby took a step toward the door, amazed.

One knock.

"Sam Winchester wears girl's underwear when he sleeps." Gus smirked.

Two indignant knocks, a pause, then another three knocks.

Dean slapped Gus in the back of the head. "That means 'no', and I'm pretty sure the extra three was him saying 'fuck you'."

One knock.

Sign language was a pain in the ass to learn, but it was a hell of a lot easier than Morse code. Dean couldn't tell a dot from a dash, and Sam was lousy at spelling long words which often led to interesting mishaps (_no STOP not 'coughee', 'rougher'_). Sign language had motions for words, which helped the non-vocal Sam convey his thoughts more precisely. While Dean didn't need to know how to sign-only how to read signs-he learned the motions as well, _if Sam has to do it I might as well, solidarity or some shit like that…_

Sam still locked himself away-control enough to avoid being feral did not mean control enough to avoid going feral if presented with potential victims-but given the ability to have company certainly helped ease the feeling that he was a monster. Once Sam was communicative the others occasionally joined in, though Dean always was present, as he and Sam were the only two who had learned to sign fluently (though everyone else knew at least basic communication Dean was usually a translator for Sam). The system appeared to work, and with regular practice Sam and Dean managed to have full conversations non-verbally.

_Less than a week until school starts. _Dean signed, rolling his eyes.

_Oh, don't give me that. You're excited. Ava'll be back from camp and you two can… _Sam paused, trying to remember the sign, before he smirked and crossed his arms in an 'x', "_make out" in the supply closet during lunch_.

Dean crossed his arms and glared at his canid big-little brother. Sam had just overtaken Dean's height in the last few months, which didn't help at making the furry monstrosity wearing a Nirvana t-shirt any easier to intimidate. Dean was used to having a height advantage. _Shut up. Bitch._

_Jerk. _ Sam signed back, before barking a quick 'laugh'. _It's your senior year, I know you're excited. When you're done you can go places, do things outside of the only town this side of-_Sam spelled out Mississippi-_with a combined middle and high school._

_It would be nice to just travel the country. Y'know, Cas said he might have a surprise for my graduation._

_Like what? The_-Sam spelled Impala.

_Maybe. _Dean shrugged, he'd gotten the old Toyota as a sixteenth birthday present (which was, to be honest, a lot nicer than most of the cars the other high schoolers drove), but secretly wished that Cas would've given him the Impala.

_You have a better chance at winning prom king than Cas letting you drive the "deathtrap". _Sam referred to Cas' nickname for the Impala, which he refused to allow anyone to drive except on rare occasions. After learning about collision ratings a few years prior-when the NHTSA started the five-star system-he was taken aback at the lack of safety measures and likelihood of the car waffling in a collision.

_Well, someone's got to take care of that car. It's depressing seeing her just under that sheet all the time._

_Dude, it's a piece of metal and glass. If it wasn't for Ava I'd think you had a thing for your car. _ Sam teased, knowing how protective Dean was of his girlfriend and the car he wished was his.

Dean scowled and flipped off Sam before picking up a book off the stack next to him. _Want me to read? I know you have to read Catcher in the Rye for English, and considering I aced that class I might be willing to help out…_

Sam sighed, which came out more as a low growl, Dean often bragged over the victories in normalcy he achieved-which were often difficult feats given the still chaotic nature of their lives, including having to cover for his werewolf little brother and vampire cousin. _Well, I can't read it; you know my glasses don't fit when I'm like this._

_Yet your braces do. _Dean still had no idea how the orthodontia stayed intact with a relatively massive shift, but they were still there. _Alright,_ Dean cleared his throat and began reading aloud, sitting comfortably in the worn easy-chair he'd lugged into the basement a few years prior. Sam sat down on the cot in the bunker and leaned against the wall as the words floated through the door's large sliding window. "If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."


	2. Back to School

**Chapter 2: Back to School**

"_I like it, I'm not gonna crack. I miss you, I'm not gonna crack. I love you, I'm not gonna crack._" Dean reached over to shut off his alarm as he rolled out of bed. He'd switched from the bunk beds to a queen mattress a few years ago, and he was quite happy at the upgrade. He stretched as he got up and mussed his hair as he looked out the window to the backyard. The sun was already above the row of houses behind theirs, shining brightly on the Oregon landscape. Dean yawned as he turned to the closet and rifled through hangers to find something to wear. It'd been a few weeks since Ava had gone to be a councilor at that camp, so he needed to pick something a bit nicer than usual to show her how he missed her (_and what she had been missing)_. Eventually he settled on a blue Pearl Jam t-shirt and a gray flannel shirt along with a pair of jeans. Sam always hogged the shower in the mornings, so Dean always took one at night.

After he got dressed and freshened up in the bathroom, deliberately flushing after he whizzed to scald Sammy,_ GODDAMNIT DEAN! I'm going to deck you when I'm done in here!,_ Dean sat down at the kitchen table. Cas still always made breakfast-even though Dean and Sam both told him he didn't have to-today was waffles.

"Cas, these smell delicious! What'd you do, get Julia Child to give you her recipe?" Dean inhaled the heavenly buttery aroma as he stacked a few on his plate and grabbed a hamsteak from the platter sitting in the middle of the table.

Cas smiled as he dried his hands at the sink and took a place at the table, "Not exactly, though I did use her cookbook for this recipe-albeit with a few substitutions in places. For one thing I don't have any lard on hand."

"Well they still smell delicious." Dean cocked his head to look through the doorway toward the front of the house, waiting for Sam to appear so that they could eat breakfast. "Come on Sammy, these things smell fantastic and I'm freakin' starving!"

As if he'd been summoned by Dean's grousing Sam appeared. He was wearing a baggy striped sweater over a pair of faded jeans and was lugging a massive backpack.

"Sheesh, Sammy, what's with the backpack? Isn't it supposed to be heavy after they give you books and crap?" Dean raised an eyebrow at the overstuffed denim monstrosity his brother sat down on the floor as he pulled out a chair.

"It's got my summer assignments, PE uniform, and my trumpet. Not all of us can get away with just a trapper-keeper."Sam gestured at the single binder sticking out of Dean's backpack.

"What can I say, I pack light? It's about the only thing Dad taught me that was half-decent for the real world. That and I don't have to lug a ten pound hunk of metal to school every day."

"Yeah, whatever, Mr. captain-of-the-track-team. Not all of us can have afterschool activities that don't require anything except us showing up."

"Don't get jealous just because I got the brains and brawn." Dean smirked as he took a bite out of his hamsteak and watched Sam pour syrup over his plate.

"Are you forgetting that I'm on the soccer team, _the only team in our school to make it to states in the last decade,_ or have you decided soccer isn't a sport again?" Sam cut a piece of his waffle and recalled how Dean had often derided the activity.

"Until there's a national league it isn't a sport."

"There is a league; it's just not big… Besides, there's an INTERNATIONAL World Cup every four years."

"_Still not a real sport…_"

After breakfast and a brief pep-talk from Cas about the school year-_…and for the love of God please don't destroy anything this year…_-Dean and Sam were in the Toyota on the way to Gus'. Bobby had formally adopted Gus about a year after the night when Cas returned and Sam was bit, making him the closest thing Sam and Dean had to a cousin. When Dean turned onto Grove Lane he saw that Gus was waiting out front on the porch, hastily skimming '1984' for the inevitable class discussion on the summer reading assignment. Dean parked the Toyota and honked twice, causing Gus to look up irritably and hold up a finger-to which Dean responded with a different finger-as he ran down the steps and across the lawn to Dean's car.

After he closed the back door he slid into the spot behind Sam and buckled in, "So, are you ever going to let me ride up front?" He poked his head between the seats as Dean pulled the car from the curb and headed toward town.

"Legally you're too small to. If we got into an accident the airbag would do some serious damage." Dean pointed toward the dash.

Gus rolled his eyes, "Dean, I'm immortal. Even if we got in an accident I'd be fine-and possibly also Sam with the whole werewolf potentially immortality thing. Besides, this car doesn't have airbags. That wasn't standard until 1988." Gus crossed his arms as Dean silently cursed the apparent osmosis of useless automotive trivia that living with Bobby imparted.

"Fine. You and Sammy can figure out some rotation schedule, but I still control the radio." Dean huffed, irritated at his rouse being immediately shut down. The main reason Gus was stuck in the backseat was his tendency to fiddle with the dial to tune the stations, which drove Dean absolutely crazy. _After all, if he's in the backseat it's out of reach._

The town's secondary school was a two-story brick building from the 1970s. At one point the town had had both a middle and high school, but with the small population and rising repair costs the school board decided to demolish both old buildings and build one new building on the site of the former high school that could handle 7th through 12th grade. Dean parked alongside the building and grabbed his bag from the backseat. He and Gus trudged across the lawn to the high school entrance as Sam walked to the middle school entrance on the south side of the building.

"See you at lunch!" Sam called, waving as he joined a group of his compatriots from the eighth grade.

Dean responded with a curt nod while Gus waved goodbye as the two of them entered the building and walked to the sole senior homeroom. The town had grown a bit since their youth, but it was still under 1,500 people, with the slight growth leading to a few new faces in school over the years. There were still only eighteen seniors-which would be the largest graduating class since 1953-and 66 students total in the 'high school', leading to everyone knowing everyone. After greeting the class (there was little need for introduction, as Mrs. Abernathy was the only English teacher in the entire high school) and attendance the bell rung and the day began.

Ford Secondary School ran one schedule for all of its 94 students. While some subjects were grade specific (history and English), science and mathematics were based on ability level with students moving from one to the next based on aptitude more than grade. This is what led to Sam being in Dean's science class. Dean wasn't bad at science-chemistry was considered average placement for a senior (the last class that wasn't an advanced placement), but Sammy was a freakin' genius with the stuff.

"That would be 'inert', right?" Sam responded, filling in the blank on a worksheet about the properties of different portions of the periodic table.

"Correct, Mr. Winchester. Noble gases are generally inert, with a few rare exceptions when exposed to extreme conditions." Mr. Watson filled in the blank on the overhead transparency.

Dean nudged his brother under the table (the two ended up lab partners thanks to alphabetic seating) and whispered, "Show off."

"You know it, jerk."

"Bitch."

After science were two periods, then lunch. The cafeteria was much larger than it needed to be, so the school could afford to have a single lunch period. But before he met up with Sam and the others Dean had a rendezvous to keep.

"Hey." He smiled, leaning against the locker next to Ava's.

"Oh God, I swear if you start with some corny line about how you forgot what I looked like, or how I'm the cute new girl because I was at camp for four weeks you can forget about anything happening today." Ava crossed her arms and pretended to be offended at Dean's obvious next move.

"Well I was going to say that 'I thought you looked familiar, but don't tell my girlfriend', but I guess we could just skip talking…" Dean raised an eyebrow, checking the empty hall for staff members.

Ava grinned as she grabbed his collar and pulled him toward the custodian's closet (which was never locked), "It's good to be back."

"Well, I'm glad you came…" Dean smirked as he shut the door, "Or, will pretty soon…"

Seven minutes and thirteen seconds later Dean and Ava arrived in the cafeteria and sat down with Sam and Gus. Sam and Carol were discussing their summer, while Gus frantically copied a passage from 1984 into the essay he'd been scrawling during the last few periods to hand in for English.

"Couldn't even start an outline at home?" Dean glanced at Gus' two sheets of cursive as he flipped over to the back and continued a quote about Big Brother.

"You know I work best under pressure." Gus flipped the page in the book and skimmed to look for another passage.

Dean shook his head as he took a bite out of his sandwich.

"Why now?"

"Because the elder Winchester is nearing adulthood. Once he achieves this it is likely he will decide to pursue a life where he is with his brother. If he does this the two will not be able to achieve the conflict we need to uphold the plan."

"But in the past our attempts have failed. The two remain a united front. The former angel Castiel has fostered a strong bond between the two, as have the human Bobby Singer and monstrosity he calls his son."

"Yes, but now is the optimal time to divide them. If we can convince Dean and Sam to separate we can work to harbor hatred for each other in their hearts and maintain the plan. It's simply a matter of how we divide them…"


	3. Halloween

**Chapter 3: Halloween**

"…which is why the school has decided to decrease funding to the athletics department by forty percent this year. Other extracirriculars are facing similar budgetary decreases, with arts and music also being reduced by thirty and thirty-five percent respectively. It is not a decision we make lightly, but it is necessary given the situation." Cas looked up from the paper he'd been reading aloud to the irritated faces of Sam and Dean.

"So, what, they expect us to still function with a fraction of our former budget?" Dean angrily stabbed his dippy egg as he grumbled, "Our uniforms are as old as Sammy, we were supposed to get new ones this year for track! Plus when baseball starts we aren't going to be able to afford to charter the good bus and we'll be stuck with the one that smells like rotten tuna…"

Sam interjected, "Dean, at least sports can manage with most of the same equipment-even though the soccer team does need new goals. Mr. Pollok said that with the budget crunch we're going to be reusing old sheet music. Do you know what it's like to read a piece of paper that's been Xeroxed near-to-hell? Look at this! We're playing music older than Cas!" Sam held up a piece of sheet music that was somehow faded, smudged, and too dark to read all at once. Dean squinted as he tried to make out the title, but could only make out the phrase 'John Williams', "Plus it means I'll have to sell band candy again…" Sam shivered, selling boxes of knock-off candy to his friends and neighbors made him feel dirty on the inside.

"I know it's unfortunate, but I'm certain your teachers will have some solution. I trust the school has had to make cutbacks in the past, they know how to handle it." Cas tried to calm the two as he sipped his coffee and hastily put the newsletter back onto the stack of paperwork the school had sent home.

"Boys, we need to raise money. As I'm sure you've heard Superintendent Kohn has been forced to divert funding from our program-as well as most other extracurricular activities-to pay for 'the unpleasantness'. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to raise funds?" Coach Thompson asked, standing in front of the cafeteria half-filled with the collection of student athletes.

Most just looked at each other blankly. One boy, someone Dean recognized as one of Sam's fellow soccer players, raised his hand. "Could we sell candy like the band?"

Coach Thompson exhaled deeply, "No Lopper, we can't do that. That's the band's fundraiser."

A girl with glasses from the volleyball team raised her hand, "Maybe we could have an event? Some sort of thing where people come and we entertain them or make food or something?"

"Okay Bernoulli, that's good! Does anyone have any ideas for an event?"

"What about a haunted house for Halloween?" Sam suggested. "I mean, people like haunted houses, and we could always do it and have refreshments afterward. It might be kinda fun…"

"Good idea Winchester." He looked at Dean, "Younger Winchester, Jesus I need to get nicknames for you two… In any case, let's flesh this idea out a bit and get some ideas laid out."

By the end of the meeting there was a plan. Each sports team would be responsible for a different part of the haunted house. Students on multiple teams could choose which area to assist with. Sam was with the soccer team on refreshments (_Dude, this is going to be so easy, all I have to do is get some soda and chips!_). Dean could choose between being with the track team (setting up decorations and props for the haunted house) or the baseball team (acting in the haunted house). As tempted as he was to scare the shit out of small children, Dean decided it would be better to get props. Besides, that way he could take Ava through the haunted house and have her riff off its inevitable corniness with him.

There was going to be a few rooms, but Dean was in charge of a 'haunted library'. Great, he got to figure out how to make books scary. After sketching out a few ideas (and promptly tossing most of them because he wasn't remotely good at art) he had Ava come over and help him sketch out his thoughts. Eventually they settled on a creepy room full of dusty old books with a hag reading a spell above a bubbling cauldron. The cauldron would be a large paper mache thing with a few flashlights with colored paper over them to cast an eerie glow and dry ice to make the steam from the cauldron. The books themselves were a bit trickier. Where the hell was Dean going to get enough old books to set a creepy atmosphere?

Pound. Pound. Pound. _Pause_. Pound. Pound. Pound. Gus paused his Playstation and walked to open the front door. Lara was in the middle of a jump when Gus set down the controller and got up from the plaid sofa, stepping over a pile of game discs in front of the television. He opened the door to see that it was Dean standing on the porch, soaked from the rain blowing sideways.

"Dean, what're you doing here?" Gus stepped aside to let Dean in. He quickly entered and briefly shook his arms to try to get some of the water out of his clothes. Dean hated getting caught in the rain, and his dour look was almost comical given his sopping clothes made the broad-shouldered teen almost look small.

After Dean was satisfied with his attempt to get dry he turned to Gus, "You know that giant pile of old books in the basement?"

"Yeah…"

"I need to borrow some."

Gus raised an eyebrow, "Dean, I'm not sure if that's a good idea… Some of them contain some pretty nasty stuff."

Dean sighed, "Gus, I need a bunch of creepy old books for the school haunted house. Where else am I going to find that many ancient scary-looking books? No one's going to read them, they're just props."

Gus bit his lip, "Fine. But only a box or two. And nothing with a red 'X'! Those ones are cursed!"

"I know, remember who helped Bobby sort out the cursed ones…" Dean trailed off as he descended into the basement. He grabbed the first two boxes he found and lugged them up and out to his car. "Thanks Gus! I owe you one!"

Gus waved as Dean left then went back to Tomb Raider. _Now where on earth is that second piece of Scion?_

A little over a week later was the opening night for the haunted house. Dean's room had turned out alright, but there weren't enough female actors, so they had to have a warlock instead of a hag reading a spell. Dean had had Sam translate some gibberish into Latin for the guy to read and stuck it into the front cover of the largest book he'd grabbed. It was some leather-bound tome with an appropriately terrifying looking image of a disfigured face on the cover. It would be perfect.

Ava had agreed to attend, looking forward to the inevitable shit-show that was a public school haunted house staffed by unpaid students with little acting ability or craftsmanship, "I mean, this is going to be better than when Danny Finster accidentally lit the stage curtain on fire during the talent show a few years ago!"

The two weren't the only ones in line, there were nearly a dozen in front of them when they arrived, and a line soon formed behind them as they waited for the door to open. It did, and out came Coach Thompson wearing the cheapest and ugliest vampire cape Dean had ever seen. Coach coughed as he affected a Bela Lugosi accent, "Good evening. Welcome to our humble haunted abode. We promise it will be a night you won't forget!" He let loose a surprisingly good evil laugh, then returned to his normal voice, "Please form an orderly line, $5 for students and children under 12, $8 for everyone else." He stepped aside as Dean rooted around his wallet for a $10 bill.

They were part of the first group along with a handful of other students and parents. Dean and Ava intentionally stayed back behind the others and whispered back and forth as they snarked about each room.

"Oh no, there goes his head."

"Wow Dean, you weren't kidding. They really didn't even bother to consult a single kid from the drama club, did they?"

"Jamie looks kinda hot in that. Ow! That was my rib!"

Eventually they reached Dean's room. Some guy on the baseball team (a freshman Dean didn't know well) was wearing some lousy makeup and a robe. When they entered he opened the book and started to read, "_Ego vos coniuro…Per Deo verum…Per Deo vivum…"_Dean wasn't paying much attention as Ava had decided to start poking his elbow.

"What?"

"I'm bored. How many more rooms?" She pulled a pair of puppy-dog eyes almost as big as Sam's as she leaned against Dean.

"God, sometimes you're almost as bad as Sammy. Mine's the last one, then punch and some knock-off Oreos that taste like death and chalk."

"What a perfect end to this wonderful display of talent and craftsmanship." She smirked.

"Hey, well at least my room's okay."

"Meh. The guillotine was better."

"Why would there be a guillotine indoors? At least mine makes sense." She rolled her eyes as Dean shook his head and turned to look at the actor reading, only really catching the last line.

_"Per tribius bovis!_" He lifted his arms. "And so I have summoned a spirit amongst us to terrify and chase you back to the safety of your own realm!" The room suddenly grew cold enough for Dean to see his breath. _That isn't right, we didn't put in any fans…_ The others filed out with Dean staying back a moment.

"Ava, I've got to grab something. I'll be back in a sec." She nodded and continued through the door to the refreshment room. He quickly grabbed the wizard kid by the scruff of his collar and lifted him up.

"Okay freshman. What the hell did you just read?!"

As the kid's eyes widened he panicked and held up the book, "Nothing, just the book. The paper on the cover was just a bunch of gibberish describing a woman with green hair"-_damn it Sammy!_-"so I read a passage I thought sounded better. This one actually makes sense." He pointed at a page in Latin.

"I don't speak Latin, but given that this page has a large red 'X' on it, perhaps that could be considered a _warning_?!" Dean was unsure of what just happened but he knew it wasn't good, "What did you read?!"

"It was just some 'spell' to summon a 'ghost'. I thought it made sense, cause, y'know Halloween…"

Dean closed his eyes and put the kid down as he raised a hand to his face, "Please, please, tell me you know exactly the name of the thing you just summoned, or that it at least spells out how to banish it."

"What? No. It just says it summons ghosts. You can call specific ones, but I didn't bother. From what the book says, there's no undoing it."

"Sonuvabitch." Dean resisted the urge to smack the kid and instead grabbed the book. "Next time read the script!"

Ava was chewing a decidedly subpar cookie when Dean burst into the room. "Phone, phone, phone…" he muttered, glancing around before spotting a payphone against the wall. He picked up the receiver only to receive silence. "Shit."

"Dean, what's up?" Ava asked, concerned.

"Nothing, I just need to call Cas." Dean lied, silently cursing himself for never getting enough balls to tell Ava the truth and just own up to the fact that his family was fucking weird.

"Well, I do have a cell phone." She fished a large plastic Panasonic phone from her purse. "Just keep it short, I pay extra until nine."

_God, sometimes you are a massive dick, but thank you right now. _Dean quickly dialed home and listened as the phone rang, eventually Sam picked up, "Hello?"

"Sammy, it's me."

"Dean? Aren't you on a date with Ava right now?"

"Yes. Look, I need help at the school. Some dumbass freshman summoned a ghost with a book I was using as a prop."

"What kind?"

"I don't…" Dean was cut off as the power cut out and a shriek was heard coming from the library room. _Fuck… _"Sammy, get your ass down here and call Bobby. Tell him it's a violent spirit. Probably someone local. And they're really pissed off that a bunch of high-schoolers just summoned them."

Dean flipped the phone closed and turned to Ava, "Thanks."

"Sure thing. Wonder what's going on with the power? It kinda sucks its during the haunted house."

"Yeah, _what are the odds…_" Dean muttered, knowing his life somehow always ended up like this.

North Plains, Oregon had never had a penitentiary. Nor had it had any sort of major crime. In fact, in the few decades since the town's official incorporation there hadn't been any homicides or violent acts according to the records Bobby had compiled since moving to the small town. This meant that the ghastly ghost that had decided to start terrorizing the school was either a) an early settler who was awoken and had a grave that was likely unmarked, b) not from the area, or c) a spirit that wasn't of the human variety. None of these options were good.

As Bobby quickly grabbed as much salt and iron as he could manage, as well as a few books on arcane banishing of spirits, he made sure to give Gus an earful, "And why in hell did you give your cousin a stack of books that you know could summon some sonuvabitch from the afterlife?!"

"I didn't choose the books… But, I told him not to grab any boxes with an 'X' on them." Gus smiled sheepishly as Bobby looked upward.

"Lord give me strength, this kid really is a Winchester at heart." He rubbed his hand across his face, "Gus, I marked _the_ _books_. Which boxes did he take?"

"I don't know. He just grabbed two with a bunch of old books. I think one was labeled 'maximum' something." Gus rubbed his arm nervously as Bobby paled.

"Boy please tell me you don't mean 'maxime periculo'…" Gus shrugged. Bobby quickly darted toward the door, "Gus, that was the box with _literally_ the most dangerous books I own." He silently counted to three, remembering the class on parenting teens that he and Cas had attended together the previous summer, "We are having a conversation about this later, but know you and Dean are both going to be in a heap of trouble when this is over."

Bobby arrived at the school as Cas pulled up with Sam in the Taurus. Sam hopped out of the front of the wagon and unloaded a large duffel full of candlesticks, fire pokers, and an ornamental wall medallion. There was no longer a line out front, as the majority of the event attendees had already entered and cycled through, but two seniors 'dutifully' manned the table out front. A girl read a magazine as a boy was working on some paper clearly due the next day. Bobby was about to charge in when the boy stuck out a hand, blocking the door.

"$8 for non-students, $5 for students." Bobby glared, then rummaged through his pocket for his wallet.

"Do you have change for a twenty?"

Dean was trapped in a science lab along with Ava and half a dozen other students, _including the asshat who summoned this thing_. Most of the others had fled when they realized that it was a real ghost, but apparently the message hadn't gotten to the front entrance because more people came in every few minutes, usually leading to some sort of stampede for the fire exit when they saw the very much real corpse of Coach Thompson.

The ghost seemed attracted to the kid who summoned it, and despite Dean _really_ wanting to just shove the kid at it and run away to regroup he was above human bait-he wasn't his father, after all. The science door burst open and Bobby appeared wielding a large iron bar, smashing the ghost, temporarily causing it to vanish while he, Cas, and Sam stepped into the large salt circle Dean had made.

Cas was the first to speak, "Dean, while I respect your decision making skills normally, you must admit this was a bit stupid. Bobby's books tend not to be light reading, and your involvement in this fiasco is evident. We will be talking about this later." He paused, "Or to put it a bit more vulgarly, Dean, you really fucked up."

Dean sighed, _yeah, that sounds about right…_ "Okay. But before you decide to ground me for eternity, we should maybe try to figure out a solution to the bloodthirsty ghost who has a rage boner for-" He turned towards the freshman, "What's your name?"

"Dick Johnson."

Dean lifted an eyebrow, "Seriously?"

"Yes. My parents are idiots."

"No kidding. But this thing really wants Dick, so before it gets him we need to get rid of it."

Bobby turned toward the kid, "So, which book did my idjit nephew give you to read?"

"This one." He held up the large leather-bound book. Bobby immediately was a mix of terrified and enraged.

Bobby attempted to remain calm but failed quickly, "Dean, why in God's green earth did you give someone the necronomicon?!"

"Wait, as in _the _necronomicon?" Sam looked curiously at the book.

"Yeah, y'know, the ancient book full of unspeakable evil." Bobby glared at Dean.

Dean cleared his throat, "In my defense, I didn't know it was _that_ book."

Before Bobby could respond the ghost reappeared. It was a deformed spectre with a loose jaw and deep eye sockets. It shrieked as it attempted to claw through the salt ring.

"So, wait a minute, Dean, is your uncle, like, a wizard?" Ava tossed a glance at Bobby, then looked back at the ghost.

Bobby turned from the ghost and harrumphed, "No, I am not. Look Ava, I'm sure Dean would love to explain this all later, but for now I recommend you cover your ears, this is going to be loud."

Bobby cocked a shotgun and fired a rock salt round into the ghost, forcing it to again dissipate.

"It appears to be drawn to Dick, perhaps he is the key?" Cas glanced at him.

"Well of course he is, the boy read a binding spell. He summoned a spirit to come to him, and unless we can break that bond Dick's gonna have more than one rough night with this thing." Bobby smirked as Dick scowled, knowing the double entendres at his expense. "But in all seriousness, we need to break the bond. Dean, you and Dick need to get as far away as you can. Sam, you get the rest of the civilians out and shut the school. Cas, you and I are gonna whip up a little something to make Dick a bit less attractive to this Casper wannabe."

Ten minutes later Sam had evacuated the school via pulling of the fire alarm, Dean and Dick were half-way across town, and Bobby and Cas had a bowl of something as Bobby quickly finished drawing a sigil on the gym floor. A small piece of paper with a drop of Dick's blood was added to the mixture as Bobby lit it and waited. Within a few seconds the doors whipped open and the room became icy cold. The ghoul entered, then charged the small flaming bowl-drawn to the scent.

Bobby stood still until the last possible moment, then jumped out of the way, "Cas! Now!"

Cas flipped on a flashlight and aimed it at the ghoul, the pattern drawn on the lens apparently acting as a banishing rite, as the sigil touched the form it ignited and dissolved, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ashes.

"Haven't done that one in a while…" Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, then stretched his back, "I am getting too old for this shit."

The next twenty-four hours were a blur for Dean. He and Gus were both in major trouble-Dean was grounded for the next month unless it was saving the world or a sports meet-and there was the issue with Ava. It was impossible to deny the truth, and with Cas being a human there was no way to alter her memories. Dean decided to just come clean.

"… so, to recap: my family is a long line of hunters, my Dad was one and died when I was a kid, so my brother Sammy and I ended up here with our uncle Cas. Only Cas was really an angel-like from heaven and not our biological uncle-and ended up sacrificing his angelic nature to stay with us and keep us from starting the apocalypse. Cas is still cool, but he doesn't have his powers anymore. Bobby was my dad's friend and ended up moving out here because he and Cas ended up besties and he wanted to make sure Sammy and I weren't in any trouble. His son-my cousin Gus-is actually a vampire, which explains the whole 'looks like he's ten but is actually seventeen' thing. Oh, and Sam's a werewolf. And part demon-kinda." He cleared his throat as Ava took a moment to process. They were sitting on the bleachers behind the school during lunch (far enough away from the crowds) as Dean came clean. She rubbed her finger along the edge of her denim jacket and exhaled.

"Y'know I would say you were nuts if it wasn't for the fact that something tried to kill us all last night."

"Again, partially my fault, so sorry about that…"

"Dean, you are by far the weirdest guy I've ever met. But you're also one of the best. You're smart, funny, kind, strong, and apparently willing to protect your family secret for years-which is one hell of a display of loyalty. I get why you didn't tell me. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't've believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

"So, we're still…"

"Yes. I'm not breaking up with you. But you better explain some of this stuff. If ghosts exist, and angels and werewolves and vampires, I need to know about that. So, since it seems like your whole family fights evil on the weekends I'm coming over every night after school until I know it. All of it."

"Wait, what?"

"You're teaching me about all the bullshit craziness I just discovered exists. That way I won't end up dead from some chupacabra because I didn't know better." She put her foot down.

"Okay. But you've still got to keep this to yourself, most people can't handle the idea that our little slice of Americana could literally go to hell any second." Dean warily rubbed his neck, not too thrilled at the potential of their hometown suddenly turning against them.

"I promise. Now let's get inside, I'm freezing my tits off out here."

Dean laughed as he helped Ava down the bleachers, the two linking arms as they entered the building.


	4. Thanksgiving

**Chapter 4: Thanksgiving**

Dean tucked his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the back wall of the house. The grey vinyl siding perfectly matched the grey and brown landscape in front of him. November was always the start of the truly cold months, and today was exceptionally brisk. Cas was inside finishing up cooking for Thanksgiving, and Bobby and Gus weren't over yet, which left just Sammy and him to mill about until around noon. Sammy was holed up in the den with a new copy of Resident Evil, so Dean had decided to go outside for a bit. He pushed off the wall and walked to the back corner of the yard where the old swingset remained.

He brushed off the dirt and sat down, staring at the back of the house as he gently rocked. It was peaceful, a nice place to just sit and think, away from all the troubles of being Dean Winchester (which seemed to always reemerge, even with his attempted normal childhood there was still always evil to face and 'good' that was just as bad and had to be dealt with). As he rocked he let his mind wander, not trying to think about anything in particular. For some reason his father kept niggling his way into his thoughts.

Dad. Dean had a complicated relationship with his biological father-biological because he wasn't much of a father in any other way. After his death Cas was his father, and while not perfect, it was clear that Cas did actually love him and Sammy. _Hell, what other guy can say his dad willingly gave up supernatural mojo and immortality just to be with his kids?_ Dad had left a lot of scars-physical and mental-on both Sammy and Dean, and despite only being on the road for four years Dean still had most of the terror-etched thoughts in his mind from his early childhood. But Dad wasn't evil or anything-he wasn't even a bad person, per say, just a bad father.

Dean slowed down and kicked his converse against the brown stubbly grass as he stood up. He stretched and peered over the fence, looking at Ava's house. It was the same as every other house in their neighborhood, but it was somehow a little different. It was interesting how people could completely change a place just by being there, and with Ava any place she was always seemed just a little brighter. Cas was the same way, but instead of the glow of a man who'd once been an angel, Ava seemed to just radiate happiness. She was never bitter or angry, and even with the insanity of his family's truth she accepted it and dedicated herself to learning more about them. Sometimes it scared Dean just how much she was out of his league (especially by how much better of a person she was, _hell_, Dean didn't even know Mr. O'Hare's first name).

Ava was planning on stopping over after her family's Thanksgiving, which meant she'd be arriving sometime around three. The O'Hares had already started their meal, but with the massive bevy of relatives present (Dean counted thirteen cars parked out front of their house) it would take her a while to sneak out for some time across the street. Dean sighed and walked back inside, rubbing his hands together to warm them as he slid the glass patio door and walked into a delectable aroma.

The food tasted even better than it had smelled, and the pies that Bobby and Gus had brought over were just as good. Dean's love of the stuff was legendary, so at this point the family had conceded to just give him one of his own so the rest at least had a chance to have some. This time it was classic pumpkin. "Bobby this is amazing! I can taste the nutmeg! You have a gift." Dean happily cut himself a third slice as the others worked their way through their first portions.

"It actually wasn't me. Gus decided to look through some old cookbooks and found one of Karen's old recipes." Bobby smiled, a brief bittersweet smile crossed his face at the thought of his wife and how she continued to live on through her recipes.

"Good job Gus. I'm surprised you could reach the dials for the oven." Dean nudged his cousin in the shoulder and was rewarded with a kick in the shins.

"Dean, I'm only a few months younger than you. And if I may remind you, I'm not the one who lit a cake on fire during home ec last year…" Gus smirked, remembering Dean's panicked expression as he tried to put out the fire and ended up doused with an extinguisher. It had taken a week to get the foam out of his hair.

"Fine, no more short jokes. _For now._" Dean promised. Gus rolled his eyes and sighed. Being between the two brothers led him to become the butt of many jokes, his size being one of the biggest (or rather smallest). Though he did have just as much fun at their expenses, it was useful being the quiet one-you get to hear the most interesting things that way.

After dinner the group retired to the living room and sat around the television as a football game played-Kansas City and Detroit-it was nice, it was almost normal. That was the interesting part about life as a Winchester (or Springer, for that matter). Life was almost normal-there were jobs and school and dating and neighbors and other civilian normalcy, but there was also the fact that at a given moment you'd be forced to go and stop something from wrecking half the town-almost always without notice.

Dean felt the tryptophan starting to take effect as a knock sounded at the back door. He immediately recognized the '_Dean, open the Goddamn door I'm fucking freezing_' tone of the knock and smirked as he walked into the kitchen and slid the glass door open to let Ava in. "Had to hide from the relatives?"

"We were about to start _charades_." She said, in mock horror.

"How awful." Dean quickly kissed Ava before anyone walked in-he wasn't much for PDA, even if she had gotten him more comfortable with the whole idea of public affection-it was still a bit chick-flick for his liking.

"Come on, everyone's in the living room." He led her into the room, gesturing to the last open spot on the couch-directly beside him. The two sat down, Dean's arm tucked behind her.

"Wait, until he was twelve?! You've got to be kidding!" Ava laughed as Dean blushed and planned revenge. _I'm gonna get you for that Sammy…_

"Yeah. I can't believe you didn't know that. I mean, you've known us for, like, almost ten years." Sam took a sip of soda before setting it back on the coffee table. When he turned to face Bobby Dean pulled out a salt packet from his pocket and slipped it in Sammy's drink. "By this point you know basically everything about us, even more now with Dean letting you in on our secret." Sam took a sip and spit out his drink, glaring at Dean who was barely concealing laughter. "Seriously?"

"Well, not everything. I know that Cas was angel and is your uncle-_which I guess makes him your ankle_?-but what exactly happened to your parents? I know you said your dad died hunting, but what exactly happened? That, and I don't think I've ever heard you mention your mom." Ava fretted, hoping she wasn't overstepping a boundary. She'd wanted to ask about this for a while-but she didn't want to press, and the timing never seemed right.

Sam and Dean exchanged a brief look, before Sam exhaled. "Ava, our mom died in a fire when I was six months old. Before that Dean and I really were totally normal kids, and our dad was an average guy living in some tiny town in Kansas."

"But when mom died in that fire it wasn't because of faulty wiring. It was a demon. We still don't know which one-Cas doesn't even know-but apparently it chose Sam to be a vessel for Lucifer and mom walked in on it giving blood to Sammy, which led to her getting stuck to the ceiling and burned alive…" Dean's face was dark as he recalled grabbing his baby brother and running out of the only place he'd called home, desperately wishing to wake up from the nightmare his life had instantly become.

"For the next few years John hunted. He and Bobby met and formed a semblance of friendship, working together when needed." Cas closed his eyes, recalling the gifted memories he still occasionally accessed, "John Winchester was a passionate man and wanted to avenge his wife's death. He set his sights on all the supernatural and tried to get Dean to be his soldier for the battle he was waging against anything not human." Cas tried to avoid most of the memories of John and Dean from his hunting years-few were happy or healthy experiences for the young boy, "He died alone in an alley after being attacked by a werewolf. It consumed his heart and killed him."

"When dad didn't come back Dean tried to take care of me, but eventually the police found us, and then we were sent to live with our uncle Cas. And that's how we got here." Sam rubbed his pant leg and glanced down, only having faint memories before Cas, unlike Dean who'd been old enough to remember the worst of it.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea…" Ava felt awful for bringing up such clearly painful memories.

"Don't worry about offending us. We've learned to deal with our pasts, and the future we're stuck with. We're not all blood, but we're family. A big, messed up family with three supernatural weirdoes, an ex-hunter and a boy who was supposed to be the vessel for heaven." Bobby waved his hand as he listed. Ava couldn't help but think for a moment how her massive ultra-conservative catholic family would react to her boyfriend's ilk.

"And in case you're wondering, no, the demon blood didn't make me a werewolf. That was a whole different thing. As far as I can tell it hasn't done anything to me." Sam added, then paused before realizing he should clarify, "And no, I haven't attacked anyone. Yesterday night I was in a werewolf-escape-proof bunker under Bobby's house."

Ava nodded, before raising an eyebrow, "Wait, is it like Teen Wolf or more like The Wolfman?"

Sam sighed as he realized he was going to have another visitor next time he changed…

Sam went over to visit Carol later in the evening and Bobby and Cas sat downstairs chatting. _All that was left was to distract Gus… _"Hey Gus, have you played Resident Evil?"

Three minutes forty-two seconds later Dean had locked the door to his room and he and Ava were kissing between brief pauses to undress. Ava slipped her tongue into Dean's mouth as he shuffled out of his pants, his boxers and socks the last clothing on the boy's frame. He reciprocated and slid off Ava's blouse, then fiddled with her bra-_oh come on you fucking… there we go!-_leaving her in panties and nothing else. It was the white pair with unicorns on it. _How the hell can she make UNICORNS sexy?!_

"So… you ready for this? All of it, for real?" Dean hesitantly looked at the bed. He was nervous. He wasn't a virgin (well, maybe, depending on what you consider 'virginity'), but he'd never gone _all_ the way before…

"Yeah… I am." Ava took a deep breath as she slid off her panties. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight to Dean, but he'd never seen all of it at once. He blushed as he mimicked her, removing his boxers and socks, the two standing a few feet apart with his plaid lying on top of her pink and tan, their glasses set carefully on the dresser-_because there is no way I am spending $50 getting another new pair_. "You know you have the cutest little mole on your ass. I never saw that before."

Dean's blush spread to his shoulders as his freckles burned red. Ava took his hand, "Are you sure? We don't have to if you aren't ready."

Dean exhaled, "I'm ready." He smiled as he stuck out his hand. Ava grabbed his hand in hers and the two entered the bed. As Ava climbed on top Dean closed his eyes and tried to remember everything he'd heard about sex-before quickly discounting most of it-_fuck it, let's just see how this ends up._ Right before the big moment he realized, "Shit. Hand me my wallet!"

"Your wallet?"

"Well, I always figured we'd end up doing it at school, that and Cas wouldn't find them that way…"

Ava sighed as she pulled out the thin packet and opened it before delicately applying the latex wrapper. Dean bucked at the sensation. "Holy fucking shit!"

Ava laughed as she poked it again, causing an involuntary spasm.

"Hey, cut it out! I'm sensitive." Dean puffed his chest up as he scooted toward the headboard, trying to look manly while clenching to avoid another involuntary embarrassment to his manhood.

"Okay." She smiled, rolling her eyes as the two joined as one.

Suddenly Dean understood why people felt compelled to smoke after sex. It made you feel so alive you felt like you could take on anything, including lung cancer. He fixed his hair after getting dressed and tossed Ava her shoes as she tidied up.

"Okay, that was incredible for me. How was it for you?" Dean retied his shoes as he leaned against his dresser.

Ava paused a moment before replying, "I think I've found my new favorite activity. Though next time you can be on top if you want…" Dean blushed again as she pinched him and stood by the door, ready to again take on the world.


	5. Christmas at the Singers

**Chapter 5: Christmas at the Singers**

The frost on the window melted slowly as the candle burned against the glass. The first snow had been yesterday, nearly half a foot. School was off for Christmas break, and Bobby had closed the shop except for emergencies during that time. Gus looked at the candle as he sat in the armchair in the living room. It was a large candle-one of the ones that came in a glass jar-and was supposed to smell like 'Fresh Balsam', though to be honest it smelled like a mix of pine air freshener and something vaguely chemically. It was relaxing to watch the small flame flicker and cast a glow against the dark window.

Tomorrow was Christmas, which meant tonight would be busy with traditions. It was Gus' seventh Christmas with Bobby. He had had one with Sam, Dean, and Cas the year before when he lived with them-which was still very nice-but he still cherished his first Christmas with Bobby the most. Gus had been living with Bobby a few months before then, and the two had done well with the whole father-son thing.

**SIX YEARS EARLIER**

Bobby was normally a calm man, sure he could get riled up-_usually if one of the boys was being an idjit_-but he was rarely nervous. Yet he couldn't help fidgeting as December rolled toward the all-important 25th. The house was decorated, presents bought, meal planned, everything seemed ready-_so then why the hell do I feel like a pig a week before Easter?!_ He sighed as he got out of bed, today was the first day of the break for students, which meant Gus was sleeping in late. He stretched as he got up, tossed a house robe over his pajamas and walked downstairs to make himself coffee and breakfast.

He was shocked to find Gus not only awake, but seemingly more active than normal (which was hard for the eleven year old to top, given his constant escapades with Sam, Dean, and the other kids in his class). He'd already poured himself cereal and was sitting in front of the television, flipping through channels as he read a comic and assembled a Lego set. Bobby stared in disbelief for a brief moment before realizing he should probably say something, "Morning Gus, didn't think I'd see you up this early."

"Figured there was nothing else to do so I got up."

Bobby nodded, unsure of what exactly to say-_how the hell does Cas manage two kids so easily?_ "So, any plans for today?" _Damn it Singer, this is your kid, connect already!_

"Not really, Sam and Dean are busy with Cas. He's taking them out to help take care of the needy." _That's Cas alright. Even as a human he's still basically everyone's angel. _"Max is still stuck inside because of his cast, Sam Kennedy's stuck babysitting his little sister, and Ava's mom is making her pick out a dress for Christmas Eve service." Gus paused his work on his Lego spaceship and turned to face Bobby. "So, uh, if you want to hang out, I guess we could…" Gus rubbed his arm, while he and Bobby were close he was still getting used to spending all the time together that being family entailed. He'd only been living with Bobby since the end of August, which meant school took up most of the time they would otherwise be together during. He liked hanging out with Bobby, but it always felt a little awkward to ask to do so, Bobby was usually busy, and Gus felt guilty asking.

"Yeah! I mean, yeah. Do you have anything you want to do?" Bobby replied, correcting his initial over-enthusiasm.

"I dunno, this one show I saw had them making gingerbread cookies. Sam and Dean don't like ginger much so we never had them there…" Gus trailed off, hoping his request wasn't too much.

"Sure. Yeah, I can do that-we-I mean we-can do that." Bobby coughed, a bit of his anxiety dissipating as he started rifling around for an old cookbook _he'd swore was here last time he saw it_…

Thus began the first of many traditions in the Singer household for Christmas. Gingerbread cookies began the week followed by sledding, picking out a _real _tree for the living room (_because damn it Bobby, this kid deserves something better than a bunch of fucking pipe cleaners, even if you are allergic_), gallons of hot chocolate, and finding the ugliest sweaters they could to see if they could elicit anything short of a compliment from Cas (_My Bobby, you certain chose an interesting pattern-it's quite lovely. And Gus, yours is also quite nice, I love all the tassels._) When Christmas Eve arrived Gus and Bobby stayed home-even though Gus wasn't repelled by crosses or holy water it still made him slightly uncomfortable being around so much iconography that was directly opposed to his existence. Bobby was relaxing in the living room, nearly dozing off actually, when Gus came in.

"Bobby, I wanted to give this to you. I know it's not Christmas yet, but this isn't your real big present, and I can't stand the wait anymore." He eagerly held up a small box wrapped in reflective red paper.

_I'm not gonna cry, nope, no way. Bobby you are a grown-ass man. You don't cry…_ Bobby felt a warm streak across his face as he quickly wiped, hoping Gus didn't notice. He did, but and his smile did nothing but worsen Bobby's façade of manliness' temporary falter.

After a brief hug Bobby recovered, "Well Gus, I've got something for you too." He walked over to the tree and rooted through the presents until he smiled and grabbed a slender box wrapped in gold and green striped paper. He handed Gus the gift, then received his from Gus. "Okay, how about we open on three? One. Two. Three." Bobby unwrapped the paper and saw himself staring back. It was a pocket watch.

"Open it." Gus plied.

Bobby did, and on the inside of the watch was a photograph of the two of them on the day Bobby had welcomed Gus officially as his son. _I already cried once tonight… oh fuck it._ Bobby smiled, then looked over at Gus. "Thank you Gus. You have no idea what this means to me."

"I do. Bobby you're the first 'real' family I've ever had. My memories exclude my _less than desirable _childhood, and Cas was just my foster parent- even with the good memories there, it was never going to be permanent, though he is a pretty good uncle-the fact that you wanted me is amazing, especially since you know about these." He descended, then retracted his fangs.

Bobby beamed, the looked at Gus' gift, "Well, open the box! Don't just unwrap it!"

Gus complied, and lifted the lid, revealing a golden necklace. "A necklace?"

"Yeah. And a pretty special one at that. It's a good-luck charm-without the usual side effects. It's also got a special little feature. It glows in the presence of demons or the demon possessed." Bobby shrugged, watching as Gus appraised the piece (and having appeared to like it, breathed an internal sigh of relief).

Gus undid the clasp and put it on, immediately feeling warm at wearing the golden pendant, "It feels warm, in a good way. Thanks, Dad." Gus grinned at the word. It was the first time he'd used it to describe Bobby.

"You're welcome, son."

**BACK TO 1996**

Bobby brushed the snow off his boots as he closed the door. He'd just finished up a rush-job for Pastor Gerald when he broke down on the way to the Christmas Eve service. Directly in front of their house. _God certainly has a sense of irony._ Bobby thought as he hung up his jacket.

"Which present you going to open tonight, Dad?" Gus teased, knowing how it was the anniversary that evening.

Bobby cracked a small grin before sitting on the sofa, "Not sure, but I'm sure it'll be great."


	6. New Years

**Chapter 6: New Years Eve**

Sam sat on the bench in front of the closed swimming pool in Memorial Park. The town firework display was at midnight, but he and Carol had decided to meet up early to celebrate. Cas and Dean were still at home, and Cas had insisted Sam take his new Christmas gift-a Nokia cell phone. Cas had gotten all three of them the devices, given the ever-present risk of supernatural threats, and Sam had immediately taken to the small hunk of grey plastic. The phone lacked a screen, but did have programmable speed-dial. After entering Cas, Dean, and Bobby's numbers he punched in Carol for #5. He hadn't told her about it yet, but was intending to show it off that evening. Unlike Carol (whose family was by far the wealthiest in town), owning a cell phone was a big deal to the decidedly middle class Winchesters.

Memorial Park was named as such because the property bordered Zion Memorial Cemetery. It was the town's only public cemetery (there was a small private one next to St. Matthew's Catholic Church on the opposite side of town). Normally it was a pleasant sight, the green hedge enclosing an emerald lawn with the small grey granite monuments surrounded by bushes and flowers, but like everything else it had succumb to the winter weather and had became a patchy brown lawn with sticks where there once were hedges and bushes. As he imagined the park in summer he rubbed his hands together, pulling down a glove to check his watch. It was nearly eight, Carol would be here soon.

When she arrived the first thing that struck Sam was how beautiful she looked walking through the street lights' glow. Sam had always loved her smooth brown complexion-a stark contrast to his comparatively light tone (much lighter than Dean, or even Cas)-and with the lighting of the evening and the scarlet jacket she wore it seemed even more striking. He smiled and stood up, "Hey. You look nice tonight."

"Thanks. I hope you're not just saying that. I feel like a marshmallow in this jacket. I'm wearing six layers under this." She poked her side, the polyester shimmering in the light.

"Well, I think you're a pretty good looking marshmallow." He smiled, extending his hand, "Wanna walk around a bit before we eat?"

"Sure. That'd be nice." She grabbed his gloved hand with her mitten, "Where are we eating tonight?"

"I thought we could try the new Outback."

She raised an eyebrow, "Sam, how could we afford to eat at a restaurant that nice? They serve food on real plates. We can barely afford to eat at places that serve stuff on plastic trays."

"I've got a way. Trust me."

After twenty minutes of strolling throughout town Sam and Carol arrived at the Outback. It was a new building on the outskirts of town in a shopping center that was still under construction. With the town's recent growth a developer had decided to build a small strip mall, to the delight of most of the town's teens (_though Dean thought it was tacky…_). When they got to the restaurant there was a decent line in the waiting area.

"Sam, even if we could get a table, we can't afford it here. Though I do appreciate the gesture…" Carol looked at the half-dozen other couples seated in the small entry.

Sam walked up to the podium with the hostess, "Hey Maura."

"Sammy! It's been forever! Want the usual spot?" Maura smiled genuinely, Carol could see her eyes meet her grin-unlike the forced one she'd had earlier when telling a man _'It'll be ready in just a moment sir…'_.

"No, I think I'll go for table 14-if it's open, that is."

"Well, you're in luck. It actually just cleared out. I'll have Billy bus it." She motioned to a busboy who nodded.

"You're all set. Knock 'er dead, _Romeo_…" Maura giggled.

"Oh, you know it." Sam smirked, turning back to Carol, "After you."

Once the two sat down and had menus Carol looked around, table 14 was directly in front of the fireplace and had a good view out the front window. It was arguably the best seat this time of year. "Sam, how on earth do all these people know you? And why do they all seem to listen to you?"

Sam smiled, "Can't I have a few secrets?"

Carol raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms-a sure sign of impending sass, "Samuel William Winchester, you'd better tell me what's going on here or so help me God I will make it my mission to find out."

Sam gulped, last time Carol made something her mission it ended with them rooting through files at the record room until she could definitively prove that she'd been correct about a date on a test about local history to have their teacher correct it. It took six hours, but she was in fact correct. All for a measly 5% more on a quiz (which she already had a 95% on!). "Fine. If you want to ruin the magic…" He smiled, good naturedly, "Gus works here and the two of us stopped a-" he paused realizing that he couldn't say 'demon possessed guy' because Carol didn't know about demons, or him being a werewolf, or anything supernatural, "-raccoon that had gotten loose in the kitchen from biting a health inspector."

"You chased after a raccoon?" She shook her head, "I guess that's what Dean meant when he said you used to go hunting all the time as kids."

_Fuck. When did she hear Dean say that?! _"Yeah…" Sam nodded, hoping to quickly change the conversation…

Dinner was excellent (well, compared to the places they normally ate out at). Sam had a t-bone extra rare (_I swear it must be the werewolf in me that loves bloody steak, because I never crave the stuff except when it's close to the cycle peaks), _while Carol ate some salmon. After paying the check (which had a generous 'hero discount' written at the bottom) and leaving a tip Sam went to use the men's room before they left. Gus wasn't on duty tonight, he'd taken off to go to some party with some of the kids from school (Dean didn't usually 'do' parties, and was instead busy with Ava; while Cas and Bobby watched the Times Square broadcast, heckling the various hosts from the comfort of the living room). As he was washing his hands Sam felt his phone vibrate as it rang in his pocket.

"Hello?"

"Sam! _Holy shit_! You need to get to Memorial Park NOW!" Dean was shouting over the phone, some noise garbled in the background.

Sam glanced at his watch, it was only eleven. "Dean, we aren't meeting for another forty minutes. Carol and I were going to go to her place and get some hot chocolate then meet you guys."

"Sammy, _oh would you fucking cut it out! _This isn't about fireworks! There's fucking ZOMBIES all over the place."

"Zombies?" Sam covered the receiver with his hand, whispering to make sure no one else could hear.

"Yeah. The walking dead-_ala George Romero_. Looks like Hell decided to ring in the New Year with a bunch of undead rising from the town cemetery. We've got them contained right now, but we need some help getting rid of them. Get over here ASAP. I've gotta go-_THWAK_-but get your ass here now!" Dean hung up as Sam quickly exited the bathroom.

"Hey, ready for some hot cocoa?" Carol stood by the door.

"Actually I just got a call from my brother. Slight change of plans. I've got some family stuff, then we can meet up for the fireworks." Sam hated lying, but it wasn't like there was much of a choice here.

Carol rolled her eyes, "Sam I know when you're lying. What's really going on?"

_Goddamn her intuition_. "Look, I can't explain it now, but I promise I will eventually. Just go back to your place and I'll pick you up to go to the fireworks. Okay?" Sam hesitantly smiled.

"Fine. But I want an explanation the second you pick me up." She crossed her arms.

"Sure." _I can probably come with a plausible lie by then._

"Dean!" Gus shouted, tossing his cousin a new bandolier. Dean caught it without looking, then reloaded before blowing the head off of a man wearing a tattered suit.

"Y'know, we could be a whole lot worse off. At least only this cemetery rose." Cas noted, decapitating a woman who looked like she'd been undergoing the process to become a human raisin.

"Cas, you know we're friends, but the 'glass half full' positivity is not appropriate right now." Bobby smashed a zombie's head against a tree before jamming a steak through its skull.

"Hey, given how fucked up our self esteem usually is I kinda like it." Sam jumped off a ledge and shot a zombie who was charging at Bobby. "It's refreshing to not hate everything."

"Drs. Minirth and Meier say that we choose how to frame our reality…" Cas paused to behead another zombie, "So, I'm trying to be more optimistic. Even if my siblings did disown me and continually try to destroy my family to cause the apocalypse…" Cas forced a smile as he stabbed a decrepit man especially hard before slicing off his head. "It's all relative."

Within a few minutes all the undead had been dispatched, leaving a large pile of corpses and assorted body parts strewn across the park and cemetery. Bobby had called in a favor with the police chief (as he was the only one who knew how to get the three Crown Vics to actually stay running every winter) and had had the area taped off, meaning that the five had until midnight to get the area cleaned when the inevitable crowds would show up.

"Thirteen minutes. How the hell are we going to get this cleaned up in thirteen minutes?!" Gus nervously glanced at his watch as he threw another severed arm into a grave.

"As long as we get the park cleared there's a good chance no one will go in the cemetery, if we can-" Sam immediately snapped his jaw shut as he saw Carol walking toward them.

"What?" Dean turned around. "Well, fuck." He turned towards his brother, "I suggest you lie. Lie like hell. We'll get this taken care of."

"Sam, what's going on? There were police cars on Elm and I saw…" She stopped and blinked twice. Sam Winchester stood in front of her soaked in blood. The lanky teen's jeans and shirt were both stained red and he held a severed hand in his right arm. Behind him were his brother (also stained red), cousin (sporting a surgical mask and crimson stained shirt), and two uncles (one with a clearly ruined 'Singer Automotive' t-shirt, the other wearing blood-spattered grey flannel pajamas).

"Carol. Please don't scream. I promise there's an explanation for all of this." Sam placed his arms out cautiously, dropping the severed hand as he did so.

She took a half step back, "Okay. So… Is this a 'Manson' thing or, like, an 'Ed Gein' thing…"

Gus shot Sam a pointed look as he lugged a corpse across the lawn, "Sammy, can you please tell your girlfriend we aren't serial killers."

"Well, then what the hell is going on?!" She shouted, panicking as she backed into Dean's parked car.

Sam sighed, "Carol my family fights evil. What you're seeing were zombies that came back from the dead courtesy of demons who wanted to- well, I really don't know why they did it, demons are giant assholes-and we killed, _rekilled_?, them." He nervously smiled.

"Zombies? Like from _Night of the Living Dead_?"

"Basically." Dean shrugged as he kicked a severed head into an open grave.

"You expect me to believe zombies are real? What next? Angels? Werewolves? Let me guess, there's a secret group of vampires living in the school bell tower." Carol threw her hands up toward the sky, equal parts scared and frustrated.

"Yes?" Sam rubbed his neck.

"Sam, you're nuts. Like, criminally insane. I'm leaving and I'm getting the cops." Carol turned around and started across the street.

"Wait!" Sam reached out for her; suddenly a lamppost exploded into sparks as the bulb burst.

She turned to face the out light and saw Sam's pleading face, his soft eyes filling with tears.

"Carol, I have proof." He turned towards Gus, a pleading look in his eyes, who sighed before walking over. He lifted the surgical mask and descended his fangs. "Gus is a vampire, a real one. That's why he's wearing the mask-dead man's blood is toxic to him."

With that Carol Jackson fainted.

When she awoke she was lying on the couch in the Winchester's living room. She'd been in this room hundreds of times, but instead of the usual comfort she felt an immediate urge to run for the front door.

"Carol, are you up?" It was Castiel, Sam's uncle.

"Please don't hurt me. I promise I won't tell the cops. I was lying earlier." She desperately tried to remember the book she'd read on negotiations for debate last year.

"Carol, we're not gonna hurt you…" Dean rolled his eyes. He was seated on a chair across from her. Cas leaned against the chair, while Sam and Gus sat on the loveseat and Sam's other uncle Bobby brought in something from the other room.

"Carol I know we freaked you out. Let me explain." Sam pleaded.

"Okay…" She hesitantly responded, nervously eyeing Gus-who was apparently a vampire.

Sam spent the next half hour explaining everything, including why he hadn't before told Carol the truth, _you literally reacted the exact way I feared you would…_ with Dean, Cas, Bobby, and Gus occasionally interjecting. By the end of it Carol seemed less freaked out, but certainly not calm.

"And I'm a werewolf."

"What." Carol flatly replied.

"I can confirm it. He's just as sassy without words as with." Dean shot Sam a look, to which he received something gestured in sign language from Sam.

"Seriously?" Dean replied, before retorting something that caused Sam to roll his eyes and smirk.

"So… Okay… just to make sure I'm not completely insane, you used to be an angel, you're a vampire, you were supposed to fight in the apocalypse, you fought this stuff _for fun?!_, and I'm dating a werewolf?" Carol pointed at each family member as she went across the room.

"Yup. Pretty much." Bobby took a sip from his coffee cup.

"My life is like some _really fucked up_ Hallmark Halloween Special." Carol put her hands on her knees before standing up and crossing the room to Sam. She smacked him across the face, then immediately kissed him.

Dean's eyebrows shot up, as did Cas'. Bobby choked on his coffee and Gus nearly laughed in shock. When the kiss was over she took a step back. "I swear to God I'm going to regret this but I'm not going to just break up with you and pretend this night never happened. Some sick curiosity wants me to find out more. So, I'm going to." She turned to face Cas and Bobby, "Seeing as you're the adults I'm going to assume you know the most about this stuff." She pointed at Sam, "I really like him, and I'm going to try to deal with this. But I'm going to need some books or something on this. Not tonight, obviously, but soon. If I have to put up with this insanity I want to know what I'm in for."

"I'll get a few to start with." Bobby replied.

"Good. Now can someone get me an aspirin and some hot chocolate, I've got a headache and I need something warm to drink…"

A little less than three weeks later Carol sat in Bobby's basement with Dean and Sam.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" Sam asked, nervously rubbing his arm as he peered through the bars on the bunker's window.

"Sam, I want to know the real you-including the not-so-great parts. You know about my family's dirty laundry and stuck with me, I'll stick with you even if you are a furry." She smirked, having picked up Dean's somewhat ironic use of the term-Sam was technically a human in a wolf-suit during his transformation. However, unlike the humans who did it voluntarily, he derived no pleasure from the experience.

After overcoming the shock of watching Sam double over on himself as he grew brown fur and his body restructured, Carol looked deeply at the new creature across from her inside the bunker. Sam's werewolf form was slightly taller than he was-which made him tower over the 5'4 Carol. He was covered in a lush dark-brown fur that looked soft to the touch (_But don't even think about trying to go in with me. No one's done it, and I don't want to risk losing control and hurting someone._). His eyes were still bright, but they had taken on a new sheen as the green had shifted to a more yellow tint. Finally, the part that seemed the most surreal was the fact that he was wearing clothing and braces-if not for the supernatural explanation she would've surmised it was in fact just a very convincing costume.

"Wow. Sam, you look…" She paused, searching for the right word, "Majestic."

He smiled and signed something to Dean.

"He says he's surprised you think he looks good. He's never gotten a compliment before on his looks when he's like this." Dean translated, to which Sam nodded in confirmation.

Carol rolled her eyes, "Well, duh. You look like something from the cover of those trashy fantasy romance novels my sister reads. _Werewolf Bare-Chest, _or something equally ridiculous."

With that it was evident that Sam was blushing, even if his fur hid it. He again signed to Dean.

"No way am I saying that. You can count me out of the mushy crap. Sammy, you know I _barely_ do chick flick moments with Ava. No way am I going to do it vicariously for you with your girlfriend. It's weird." Dean crossed his arms, refusing to translate something particularly sentimental. Sam growled, "Growl all you want. Not happening."

Sam rolled his eyes as he grabbed a piece of paper and fed it into the word processor in the corner of the room, after a minute and the clicking of keys he produced a typed message which he held up for Carol to read.

_Thank you, you have no idea of how much your words meant. I've always been a bit ashamed of how I am-I mean, it's not 'normal' being a werewolf-and it really means a lot to me that you accept me. Beyond that, you think I'm attractive, even at my worst. Carol, you truly are amazing. I'm lucky to love you and have you love me back._

She quickly wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and blinked, "Well, I know I'm not allowed to hug you right now, but I fully intend to once you're back to human." Sam responded with a short and happy bark-a near involuntary sound for delight.

Carol turned to Dean, "What is that thing you're doing with your hands?" She mimicked some of his earlier movements, to which Sam and Dean immediately started laughing. "What's funny?"

"You just said you liked socks covered in marmalade." Dean chuckled, taking a quick breath before continuing. "It's called American Sign Language, or ASL. Sammy and I use it because he can't 'talk' like this. Bobby, Gus, and Cas know a bit, but the two of us know the most. We can still chat, only it's through our hands, not our mouths."

"If you can talk, why do you sign back?" Carol had noticed Dean signing.

"I dunno, solidarity _or some shit like that_. If he's not able to 'talk' using his voice I think it's only fair I communicate the same way he does." Dean shrugged, to which Sam quickly responded.

Dean blushed slightly at the response before coughing and replying with his own motions.

"Looks like I've got another new thing to learn in addition to all the supernatural craziness… do either of you have any books on ASL?"


	7. Happy Adulthood, Here's your 1040

**Chapter 7: Happy Adulthood, Here's your 1040**

Dean scribbled on the margin of his notebook as he glanced at the clock while Mr. Gehring finished the lecture and started passing out a writing prompt for weekend homework. The balding middle-aged man was one of Dean's favorite teachers-and not just because his class was an easy 'A'. There were only three minutes left until final bell, and he could nearly taste the weekend. It was a Friday in late January, and to the bulk of the student body at Ford Secondary it was simply another dreary day in the middle of a dreary month of snow and bleakness. For Dean however…

"Happy Birthday!" Ava greeted him at the exit of Mr. Gehring's class.

Dean smiled as he rolled his eyes, "I know. You've already said that, like, a dozen times."

"Well, get used to it. I like saying 'happy birthday', and I figure if I say it enough it might come true." Ava nudged Dean's shoulder as the two went toward their lockers. Dean often got moody around his birthday as he'd gotten older. "Just try to have fun; you're always too quiet at your birthday parties. I swear it's the one day of the year you actually shut up, and I don't like it."

"Okay, I promise I'll try to have fun." Dean wearily conceded.

"Good."

Dean's birthday celebration was a small affair. While Dean did have a fair number of friends, he disliked large groups when it came to parties. It always felt a bit uncomfortable, even if everyone was happy, he hated being the center of attention. So, that evening it was a smaller family party, and he'd promised to hang out with Max and a few other guys from school the next day. Cas had made an apple pie-Dean's favorite-as well as a more traditional yellow cake with chocolate frosting for everyone else to enjoy.

"So, guess you'll have to register soon." Bobby noted, cutting a smaller second slice of the cake for himself.

"Yeah. Both to vote and for the draft." Dean noted, absentmindedly looking at his pie.

"Your father was a veteran. Would you ever consider going into the armed forces?" Cas took a forkful of cake and happily enjoyed it-_easily one of the best parts of humanity was the ability to fully enjoy your senses, including taste._

"I don't know…" Dean shrugged, he honestly _didn't _know what he was going to do after graduation. Sure he worked with Bobby right now, but he had no idea what he would do for a 'real job'.

"You better not. I don't think I could stand only seeing you once a year." Ava placed her arm on Dean's shoulder, one of the few PDAs that Dean didn't mind-though he was beginning to come around towards kissing in public. Dean smiled, reassuring her he felt the same way.

"Well, either way, you're officially an adult. And as a result we wanted to give you something as a gift." Cas smiled as he nodded at Bobby, the two of them pulling out matching envelopes.

"Which one do I open first?" Dean looked at the two white envelopes-_likely cards with some cash, like last year._

"Either one's fine-but mine's better." Bobby teased, causing Cas to roll his eyes.

"Well, I think I'll start with Cas'-no offense Bobby." Bobby smiled, showing there was no hard feelings.

Dean tore open the small white paper envelope and fished out a sheet of paper. It was some sort of bank statement with a list of transactions. The earlier ones started nearly a decade ago, with deposits once a month.

"A bank statement?" Dean glanced at the paper, trying to decipher its meaning.

"Flip it to the back." Cas motioned for him to turn it over.

When Dean did he was astounded. "There's nearly $12,000 in this account!"

"When I adopted you and Sam I considered you my responsibility, and part of that was planning for your future. When I rebelled against the plan I decided to set some money aside for each of you to help you get started when you were old enough to begin your own lives. Now the money is earmarked for either education or real-estate, and you can't deduct more than $1,000 at once, but I figure it should be enough to help you out at first." Cas paused, turning to Sam, "Sam, you have the same amount in your account right now as well, and when you turn 18 I will do the same with you."

"Cas, this is incredible… I have no idea how to even begin to thank you."_ Keep it together Dean, no crying, especially in front of your girlfriend AND family._

"Don't. It's for you to decide your future, you are the master of your own destiny." Cas smiled, happy that his boys were thriving-in spite of everything trying to force them down a path they both knew they didn't desire.

"Well, Bobby I think it's gonna be impossible to beat that." Dean snarked, trying to hold back the emotion.

"Just open it, then decide." Bobby lifted an eyebrow.

Inside the envelope was a card. It was a fairly standard Birthday card-blue background, a few balloons, the usual. The card didn't feel particularly weighty or well made, it was glossy-which meant it was at least a commercially made card (instead of one of the ones printed from the myriad of card making software Cas had bought as a hobby a few years back)-and there wasn't any embossing. Dean guessed Bobby had gotten it at the grocery store a few days ago. Dean never read cards aloud-it wasn't his thing-so he flipped it open silently, expecting a twenty or maybe a fifty if he was lucky. Instead there was a wall of text taking up the entire interior of the card.

_Dean, I know you aren't gonna read this aloud because you think it's stupid and people can just read it later if they want. Honestly, I don't blame ya on that one. Anyway, I wanted to start by saying I'm proud of you. Cas and I both are. You and Gus are graduating this year, and it's hard to believe you're a man already. I remember when you were just a little idjit trying to invent new ways to wreck my living room every time you visited. Ya still do that, but it's not as bad as it used to be at least. I wanted to say that you're a good guy. I know you doubt yourself sometimes and you get stressed out (I see it, don't deny it boy) because you feel like you need to protect everyone. Calm down. You're not alone, we're all here for you. Anyway, getting beyond the mushy stuff, I wanted to say that you've been pretty damn useful around the garage and I wanted to make you a formal offer. You get to a tech school and get trained, then I promise I'll hire you-at a livable wage (though I can't promise luxury at least you won't have to bust your ass for nothing at a Jiffy Lube). Beyond Gus, you and Sam are my sons and I like having you boys around. Thank you, and Happy Birthday._

_ Bobby Singer_

Dean closed the card and immediately stood up, walked across the room around the table and hugged Bobby. "Bobby this is the one time I'm doing this. I swear to God if you bring it up-any of you-I will deck you."

The gifts continued: Sam had gotten Dean a few new cassettes, and Ava had gotten him a bottle of cologne.

"Abercrombie and Fitch: Woods?" Dean read the label, "I don't wear cologne."

"And we all suffer for it. You think we can't tell, but after you work out we all can." She smiled, deviously, "And while I may like the smell, I'm pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't."

Dean coughed, hoping no one would mention Ava's statement, and opened the bottle. It was a musky, somewhat earthy scent. _Well, it's better than that stuff Sammy's always drenching on him. _"It actually smells pretty nice, thanks."

After the evening wound down Bobby and Gus left and Dean walked Ava home. It was almost midnight when Dean collapsed onto his bed. The red LED light from his alarm clock ticked over from 11:58 to 11:59 and Dean quietly spent the last minute of his birthday staring at his ceiling. It had been a good day. Dean had kept his promise to Ava, he had had fun-but once the clock ticked over he sighed as his mind receded into the usual spot it went the few days around the anniversary of his birth: death.

Specifically, his death. Dean was mortal-like Cas and Bobby and every other human in existence. He would one day die. It probably wouldn't be for a while (_even with fighting off all these fucking monsters, he wasn't hunting them down by choice and was a whole hell of a lot less likely to get caught in over his head and bite it at the hands of some baddie_), but it would come, eventually. Sam and Gus weren't. Gus was a vampire. He didn't age, he didn't die. Sam was a werewolf. A weird one, but one that still followed all the regular rules for the most part. He aged, but werewolves were immortal. Eventually he'd stop aging and Sam would be like Gus, stuck in the same body for eternity. They'd have each other, but Dean-he was human. He would die, and they'd both outlive him. He wouldn't be able to keep them safe anymore. Without him around someone might get the wrong idea and end up hunting them…

Dean closed his eyes and shoved _that _thought to the back of his mind. The fact that there were a handful of people in town who knew that they were hunters was one thing. But if word ever got out that Sam and Gus were actual 'monsters'…

Dean sighed as he looked at his ceiling and closed his eyes, _God, why couldn't I be normal? Why couldn't we all just be normal?_


	8. Another Day, Another Demon

**Chapter 8: Another Day, Another Demon**

_"This evening President Clinton will speak in congress giving his annual State of the Union address…_"

Sam slid the radio off and groggily looked at the red LED clockface. It was 6:45. He had an hour until school started, which meant forty minutes until Dean and him left to get Gus. Sam got up out of bed and straightened the covers-the rumpled striped comforter had seen better days, but Sam was loathe to throw it out (it was extremely comfortable, even if it was quite faded). The carpet was cool to his bare feet as he shivered. _Man I hate cold weather…_

Dean never showered in the morning, so Sam quickly walked to the bathroom and steamed up the mirror as he waited for the water to reach full heat. After a nice hot shower he brushed his teeth and combed his hair in the mirror before getting dressed. It was winter, which meant lots of layers-even more than usual for the _grunge-chic_ teen. Sam quickly threw on a pair of boxers and heavy socks before putting on khakis and his first shirt. On top of the long-sleeve shirt he threw a striped tee, then a zip-up jacket. He quickly jammed his homework in his backpack and grabbed his trumpet from the corner. With all of this in hand, as well as a pair of sneakers, he went downstairs (two at a time) and entered the kitchen.

Dean was already there along with Cas, who was looking over the paper discussing the evening's planned address.

"Took you long enough! I'm starving!" Dean pointed at his plate as Sam rolled his eyes and sat down. After a brief prayer Sam loaded his plate with scrambled eggs and a slice of ham-steak.

_Alright, got my homework done, backpack's taken care of, got cash for lunch…_ Sam went through his mental checklist as he chewed breakfast, scarfing down food while signing with Dean. The two had gotten into the habit of signing more often during mundane times when speaking would be inconvenient or when they felt like keeping a conversation private. Cas had managed to mostly master the art of reading ASL signs, but struggled slightly with duplicating the more complex motions (learning a new language is progressively more difficult as one gets older). This morning it wasn't for privacy, more to allow the two teens to eat and talk simultaneously without earning Cas' ire about speaking with ones mouth full.

_Anything good for you today? _Dean motioned as he chewed.

_Got a test in English, and we're getting a new piece in band for the spring show._

_You hear about the solo results? _Dean asked, inquiring over whether Sam had been selected for a solo during the marching band performance for the town's Memorial Day parade.

_Results are being posted today. It'd be nice, but I'm not even in high school yet-so I'm not holding my breath._

_Well, it would be hard to play a trumpet without breathing. Unlike guitar, which I can play while blindfolded and gagged._ Dean bragged.

_Dude, I don't want to hear about the weird shit you and Ava get up to. The walls are already paper thin, I don't need to imagine images to go with the sounds._

Dean quickly glanced at Cas, who was busy reading the paper. Cas usually didn't interrupt the boys' conversations, and today was more engrossed in the evening's speech than anything else.

_Hey! You know he doesn't know about that. _

_It's hard to believe it, given how LOUD you are whenever it happens. _Sam replied, smirking.

_Just wait until you start, you'll understand why. _Dean shivered internally; thinking of his brother having sex was weird. Especially given how it's entirely possible he might have a furry fetish with the whole werewolf thing. _But seriously, shut up about it until I tell him._

_Okay. _

Sam placed his test on the desk up front and walked back to his seat. English was the only class he had with every student in the grade. All seventeen of them in one room was a bit odd to him-given how he usually was with a mix of grade levels, but it made sense to keep students on track with literature covered using a progressive model. This test was on poetry. It was mostly multiple choice, but there was an essay at the end. Essays were an easy but boring task for Sam. He'd written dozens of them throughout school so far, and according to Dean there were many more to look forward to. Comparing two different sonnets was simple enough, and he'd managed to get a page written in a few minutes.

He had a few minutes to kill so he pulled out a notebook and some pens and started drawing. Sam wasn't an artist by any means, but he liked the relaxation of just getting deeply invested into working on a single image. After roughing in a horizon line and a few basic structural components he started to get the forms established. Most of the time he drew different places in town he could remember, or if not that, then people he knew. He figured that way he could easily compare his drawings to reality to identify what he had to work on. Today was their house (again). It was easily the single most drawn thing in Sam's sketch notebook, but that was for a good reason.

It was home.

Band was later in the day, and after putting his case in the back of the music storage room Sam glanced at the bulletin board next to the band room's entrance.

_Please, please, please…_ He scanned the board before finding the soloist list._ Clarinet, flute, percussion 1, percussion 2, percussion 3, sousaphone, trumpet! _He nervously glanced right._ Trumpet soloist: Samuel Winchester._ Sam blinked, he hadn't expected to get the part. After re-reading the sign to make sure he was the soloist he quickly looked around before doing a double fist pump and saying "Yes!"

The new music was in fact a recycled piece dug up from the depths of the filing cabinets lining the back wall of the music room. The band candy fundraiser had not been as successful as hoped, and as a result they still had to recycle some music, though mercifully there were a handful of new items as well. The copy Sam received wasn't faded or stained or too dark to read. It actually appeared to be in fairly decent shape, even if the copyright was from well before even Bobby was born.

"Our newest piece is actually one that was just recently recovered during the renovation of the main office following the fire from earlier in the year. The work was written by the school's first band director back in the 1930s, though for some reason it hasn't been performed-at least from what we can tell. The music you all have was actually found in a lockbox in the floor beneath the former reception desk. Anyway, without too much more introduction let's take a look at 'Valsa Deamhan' by L. Fir." Mr. Pollock lifted his hands and motioned for the group to begin.

As Sam brought the trumpet to his lips something was in the back of his mind. _Deamhan. Where have I heard that before?_ He shrugged as he counted the four measures until he and the other trumpets entered. With an A flat they began, and with an A flat the lights in the room flickered. It wasn't uncommon for the fluorescent lights to flicker now and then, but to suddenly begin to flicker in time with the music was odd to say the least. By the time the sight-read of the piece ended the lights were almost strobing, and most of the students were noticeably unnerved-as was Mr. Pollock. "Alright-I don't know what's going on with…" he was interrupted by a popping noise as every light in the room exploded, leaving the class to scream in total darkness.

Sam knew something wasn't right, and when the rest of the class evacuated to the hall to wait for the janitor to come and replace the lights he excused himself to use the restroom. He snuck down the hallway and quickly ducked into the janitor's closet to make a phone call. _Come on, come on, pick up…_

"Singer Automotive, this is Bobby."

"Oh thank God. Bobby its Sam."

Bobby exhaled, knowing there was only one reason Sam would be calling him during school, "So, I'm going to guess this isn't a social call?"

"Not quite. Listen, have you ever heard of music causing supernatural events?"

"Couple of times, yeah. Sometimes certain stuff can be linked to spirits or curses-most of its pretty specific-play a certain song in a certain place and it can cause a spirit to manifest who had a connection to the song." Bobby cradled the phone and started for the house, the cordless phone remaining barely in range as he switched to the corded landline in the dining room.

"Ever heard of something called 'Volta Deanham'?" Sam asked, quickly peeking out the window of the janitor's closet to make sure no one was nearby.

Bobby was silent for a minute before he responded, "Do you mean 'Valsa Deamhan'?"

"Yeah, sorry, I don't speak whatever language the title's in."

"It's Irish. And if someone in your school was big enough idjit to play it you're in a hell of a bad spot."

Sam winced, "What if the whole band did?"

"They _fucking_ what?! Sam you need to get everyone out of the school now, except for the kids who played that song." Bobby sounded like he was panicking.

"Why not them?"

"They're possessed and I doubt you want to explain to your principal why both my nephews and my son destroyed half the school in a battle with supernaturally strong band geeks."

"Wait, if I evacuate everyone else couldn't the demons still just hop into a different vessel and leave?"

"Nope. The song binds the demon to the player. Because you've got Cas' angel mark you're safe, but everyone else is currently playing host to an unwanted houseguest from hell. One other thing, this isn't a normal possession, you can't just exorcise them using any old chant. It's specific. I'm grabbing it right now."

"Okay, I'll get Dean and Gus and we'll figure out a plan. How soon can you and Cas get here?" Sam looked out the window again to see Dan Leery-a clarinet player-rounding the corner, clearly looking for Sam.

"I should be there in about twenty minutes, I'm calling Cas now. Stay safe for God's sake."

"I will." Sam hung up and saw that Dan had passed. He counted to thirty and opened the door, creeping along the hallway towards the stairwell to the second floor.

Dean was in study hall when Sam knocked on the door.

"Hello. How can I help you?" Mrs. Sheridan replied, greeting the clearly-not-yet-high-school-aged Sam.

"Hi. I'm Sam Winchester, Dean's brother. The office got a call from our uncle about a _family emergency_, but said they couldn't reach your room." Sam had disconnected the school's phone jacks enough times to know exactly where in the switching board he had to yank to cut off each room.

She frowned and picked up the phone, and receiving no tone turned back to him, "It looks like the line's out right now. After you take care of everything with your uncle would you ask Hank to come up and take a look at the line?"

"Certainly. Dean, we also need to get Gus." Sam nodded politely as they crossed the hall and repeated the process.

"Great. So, how are we gonna evacuate the building without having the band kids also leave?" Gus asked as the trio hid in the second-floor men's restroom.

"No idea. But it's obvious from the actions I've seen that they're looking for us, as per usual." Sam rolled his eyes and kicked the tile floor.

"It'd be nice if they went after someone else for once." Dean leaned against a sink, "Well. No, not really, it'd be nice if they just left us alone."

"Well, they aren't. So we have to do something." Sam remarked.

"Couldn't we just pull a fire alarm?" Gus asked, eyeing the extinguisher at the corner of the bathroom.

"That would still let them go out with the rest of the crowd."

"Not if we trap them somewhere first…" Gus' eyes lit up with an idea, which was usually a dangerous thing. The whole 'immortality' thing had somewhat emboldened the already impulsive teen.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before Dean spoke, "Gus, if this is another plan like when you suggested one of us end up strapped to the hood of my car, we're not doing it."

Gus frowned, "No. It's way simpler. We lure the possessed band kids into a room and trap them, then pull the alarm and evacuate the rest of the school, and when Cas and dad get here we exorcise them. Easy."

"So, live bait?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"For lack of a better term, yes."

It was surprisingly easy to determine where all the band students were. They seemed to stick in small clusters as they searched the building, and with Sam clearing the first floor and Dean the second it wasn't too hard to lure them across the threshold of the empty science room on the first floor and into the devil's trap hastily scrawled in marker on the ceiling. Soon afterward all the students were in the room and Dean had salted the doors and windows, leaving a large number of angry middle and high schoolers stuck in the center of the classroom. After rounding them up Gus triggered the fire alarm, meaning the school would evacuate for at least half an hour while they got everyone out and the fire department called to inspect the building.

"That was easier than I had thought it would be." Sam conceded, double checking that everyone from earlier was in the room, before turning to face the hallway.

Dean looked out the window as the remaining staff and students trickled out. "Alright, Bobby should be here any minute with the exorcism ritual. As long as no one escapes, we're golden."

And with that, fate answered Dean's hubris with the lights in the room flickering as Mr. Pollock strolled in.

"Fuck." Dean's face dropped as he realized they'd forgotten about the band teacher.

"No thanks. You're a bit young for me." Mr. Pollock smirked as he scowled at his students being held in a devil's trap. "Well I suppose I should give you some credit, managing to capture my lackeys."

Dean quickly took an offensive position, placing himself in front of Sam. "Alright. What are you?"

Pollock rolled his eyes as his form shed a layer of flesh and clothing and became a woman, then a Hispanic teenager, an elderly man, and finally settled on copying Dean. "Take a wild guess." He crossed Dean's arms and smirked.

"Okay, shapeshifter-but why the music?" Gus averted his eyes- uncomfortable at seeing his cousin naked.

'Dean' replied, "You're wanted men. Heaven and Hell both want you for their plan. Anyone who gets you two to finally snap and start it all gets a free ticket to the afterlife with no repercussions. And given how monsters don't exactly get to go to the good place, I was banking on the music to get Sammy to finally give in to his darker side and give me a golden pass."

"Well, dumbass, neither of us can be possessed-same with Gus and Bobby and Cas." Dean stared angrily at his copy, "And could you _please_ cover up? If I'm gonna fight you I don't want to have to wrestle myself naked."

'Dean' rolled his eyes as he grabbed a lab coat from a nearby table, then charged the three.

Bobby and Cas arrived at nearly the same time. Seeing the crowd outside, they decided to sneak in through the rear of the building.

"Have we ever come to this school during the day to do something normal?" Bobby asked, jimmying the lock to the cafeteria.

"We had parent-teacher conferences last month." Cas offered, following Bobby into the kitchen.

"Beyond that…"

"Then no." Cas paused, raising a hand as he heard noise from the hallway. "They're this way."

"You know, when they asked me what I wanted to be as a kid 'supernatural hunter who's constantly saving his family from shit' was not on the list." Bobby groused, cracking his back, "I am getting too old for this…"

"Bobby, I was immortal for millennia before you came into existence. Believe me, I get it." Cas poked his head around the corner to see Dean running full speed toward him and Sam standing at the far end of the hallway.

"Hey Cas, can't talk, shapeshifter after me!" He shouted, lunging around the corner as 'Dean' appeared and ran toward Sam.

"Shapeshifter? I thought you said cursed music?" Cas turned toward Bobby, puzzled.

"I did. When'd a shapeshifter get here?" Bobby asked Dean.

"Shapeshifter summoned the demons with cursed music, wanted to try to get Sam to turn evil and fulfill 'the plan'. Long story short, we've been kiting this thing around for the last few minutes because none of us have silver to off it. Please tell me you have something." Dean panted as he leaned against the wall.

Bobby pulled out a knife from his boot and handed it to Dean. "Okay, so where are the demon band kids?"

"Room 118-Science lab on the left."

"You take care of that thing, we'll exorcise the kids."

Dean nodded, before standing back up and sprinting toward the opposite end of the school where Gus was now running as fast as his stubby legs could carry him.

"Have you ever stopped to consider how fucking weird our lives are?" Cas turned toward Bobby as the two walked toward the science lab.

"Cas, my best friend's an angel, my kid's a vampire, and my nephew's a werewolf. I'm in the weirdest episode of 'The Munsters' there is. Now pass me that sage and my book, this'll take a few minutes."

'Dean' lay dead courtesy of a surprise attack from Dean, the band students were back to normal (_and for God's sake, please don't go playing music with the word 'demon' in the title again_), and the fire department was just arriving.

"So, what do we do with the body? Clearly we can't just leave it here." Dean nudged his doppelganger with his foot.

"Weekend at Bernie's?" Gus suggested.

And with that they dressed the double in Dean's gym uniform and hauled it to his car in the student parking lot before hastily driving out of town. After digging another hole in their usual spot (the edge of an abandonded farm) the body was unceremoniously dumped into a shallow grave.

Sam looked out the window of the car on the way back and thought how to anyone else this would've been a day to remember-for better or worse. But for him it was just another day, another demon/shapeshifter/whatever… He sighed as he turned back to Dean and Gus and smiled.

"Well, so far the attempts haven't worked. The brothers remain close."

"Clearly we need to do something drastic."

"How so?"

"Perhaps something more _traditional_ may assist…"

Gabriel quickly ducked out of the way as the two passed. _Those pompous assholes really couldn't just let well enough alone. Fine. He'd have to do something. Great, _he sighed, _well Cas, let's see how my little brother's doing with humanity. _


	9. Only most are COMPLETE Dicks with Wings

**Chapter 9: Well, Maybe not _all_ of them are COMPLETE Dicks with Wings**

Cas was not expecting a knock at the door. It was a Tuesday morning and he hadn't yet gone into work-_Not that there was much work to do today, aside from the usual printing of brochures and fiddling with the webpages until I have to call Ted to fix it…_ When he opened the door he certainly didn't expect to see a man he didn't recognize, much less one in such formal attire.

"I'm sorry but I'm not interested in whatever it is you're peddling…" Cas half closed the door when the man spoke.

"Cas, it's me. It's Gabriel."

Cas paused and opened the door, eyebrow cocked. "If you are my brother I'm going to need some sort of proof."

He rolled his eyes, "Cassie, I can't exactly go all angelic-you're human now, and much as I love messing with you, I don't want you blind or deaf because of me."

"Fine. Come in and we'll talk." Cas begrudgingly opened the door and stepped to the side. Gabriel stepped toward the threshold but seemingly hit an invisible wall, unable to enter.

"Seriously? You warded your house?" Gabriel smirked, "Good thinking, but dick move making me look like a mime in a monkey suit."

Cas scoffed, "You could've changed. It's one of the many perks of being a human."

"Never thought you'd be the one lecturing me on humanity."

"Well, love makes you do things even you don't consider." Cas smiled.

"Spare me the whole soppy story on how having kids changed your life, there's enough of that garbage on television. Is your yard safe? We could at least talk out back…"

"In six inches of snow? No. We can go to Bobby's garage, his house is warded, but the garage isn't, and it has heat." Cas gestured toward the Taurus as he pulled out his keys. "Bobby's gonna _love_ meeting you."

Bobby Singer had met many different creatures, cryptids, monsters, and God-knows-what on his journeys in hunting. He'd only seen a handful of angels (Cas and the three who had abducted him), and they were all pretty much complete assholes except for Cas (at least according to Cas' descriptions and the constant barrage of nuisances and nightmares they sent his way). So when Cas introduced Bobby to his brother, it was understandable why Bobby suddenly grabbed a shotgun and aimed it at Gabe's nethers.

"Okay-I want you to listen, you flying piece of shit-leave my kid and my nephews alone. We can deal with hell easily enough, but you assholes always manage to complicate things in ways that fuck with the natural order well beyond hell. Four years ago you idjits decided to try to screw with Sam's internal clock by causing a freak eclipse that lasted almost a week! He was stuck constantly changing without warning and was terrified he was going to hurt someone without knowing it. Do you know how stressed out you made that poor kid for MONTHS afterward?!"

Gabe coughed awkwardly as he regained his composure, "Well, just so you know it doesn't matter to me if my vessel's dick gets shot off-I can't reproduce like that anyway-but I do want you to know that I'm not here to try to make things go even more off-the-rails than usual for this slice of quaint country shithole."

Bobby scowled, then addressed Cas, "Your family really is terrible."

"Undeniably, but he's telling the truth. Gabriel was one of the few who acted on his own behalf while in heaven-though to a much less degree than humans-and it is likely he is trying to do something good."

"Well, not so much 'good' as 'good for me'… I don't really care what happens to humanity-at least I admit it-but I don't want a war-to-end-all-wars in heaven. We've already got enough infighting, I really don't want to be around when the apocalypse lights off that powder keg."

"Infighting?" Cas raised an eyebrow, "Since when do angels quarrel amongst themselves?"

"Since you up and rebelled. Apparently you have a few sympathizers-a minority-but they think that unleashing the end of the world isn't such a great idea. God's an absentee father-as usual-so right now we're trying to figure out what to do. The plan was supposed to be perfect, and the fact that _you of all people_ managed to thwart it has made them question whether it was. Given that some of this minority is currently high-ranking we haven't been able to just banish them or 'reeducate' them, and there's sides forming." Gabriel looked smug and nervous at the same time, smug over his knowledge over them, and nervous of the clear implications a heaven civil-war would impart.

"Okay, but clearly that isn't the only reason you're here." Cas crossed his arms, "We can't do anything about that, and you never bothered to show up before and share. What's going on that made you come here?"

Gabriel sighed and Bobby swore he saw the smug bastard's grin fall for a second, "Heaven's going old-school to try and force the boys apart. They want to drive a wedge between them and figure stress and constant battles might do it."

"What do you mean 'old-school'?" Bobby asked, knowing he didn't want to know the answer.

"Heaven has made a deal with hell-think Book of Job-they've okayed anything to be thrown at the boys, as long as they get to alternate with hell in the trials. It's an endurance test, and sooner or later one of them is bound to crack and give into the plan and turn against his brother. At least, that's the thinking. I figured you could use a warning." Gabriel wasn't even remotely apologetic in tone, and shrugged, "But what're you gonna do?"

"Well, you could help us and do more than just drop in once and pretend that it makes up for years of ignoring or indirectly antagonizing my family…" Cas nearly shouted, irritated at his brother's indifference toward his children.

"Cas, come on, they're not even really your kids. You're just a glorified babysitter. If it wasn't for one of us failing to save John Winchester from getting himself eaten you'd still be a happy little cloud-dweller who would probably cheer on the plan from the get-go." Gabriel defended himself, deflecting his flaws and instead insulting Cas.

Cas' face turned bright red and Bobby took a step back, making a clear path to the angel. Gabriel might have been superhuman, but he hadn't dealt with the ire of an angry father who'd just been called illegitimate. He also didn't expect the real estate agent who went to the gym once a month to manage a flying tackle. As Cas landed on top of his brother, his face momentarily registered surprise before using his strength to throw him off and across the room.

"Hold it." Bobby put down the chalk and pointed at the wall, there was a circle with a star inscribed inside of it, though the sigils were a bit different than usual…

"What's that?" Gabe scoffed, "You didn't use the right symbols. That isn't going to banish anyone."

"No, but it will trap you in here and allow us humans to come and go as we please." Bobby smirked, "We might not be as 'great and powerful' as you, but we're damn more resourceful."

Gabe scowled and attempted to leave via the open garage bay. He again slammed into an invisible wall. He charged over to the wall to smudge off the sigil, but when he came within a few feet of it his skin prickled and he felt like he was trying to stick his hand into lava.

"We'll let you sit here for a bit. Bobby and I are going to get something to drink." Cas smiled, "I'm no one's babysitter."

"I figured he'd be more… regal?" Gus shrugged, seeing Gabe angrily charging the sigil, only to recoil at the invisible heat.

"You've met Cas, what gave you the impression that angels were regal?" Dean nodded towards Cas, "No offense, or anything."

"None taken. I've come to terms with how I am." Cas adjusted his large jacket against the February chill and pulled out a pair of large wool mittens.

"So, are we gonna do something or just watch him try to get that sigil washed away?" Sam looked as Gabe charged again, this time holding a broom to smear the mark, and dropping it as he jumped back.

"Once he calms down we're going to talk, but for now enjoy the show. It's not often we get to get this level of free entertainment." Bobby smirked.

Gabe had given up trying to clear the sigil and sat angrily on the hood of a car he didn't recognize. It was cold and uncomfortable, but the doors were locked and there wasn't a chair to sit on, so he didn't have many options of where to sit.

"Ready to talk? Or are you going to insult my kids to their faces?" Cas crossed his arms as Sam and Dean stepped across the threshold with him.

"Look, I'm sticking my neck out here to warn you and I get rewarded by being held hostage-I can speak my mind if I want." Gabriel folded his arms and looked away from his brother.

Cas sighed, "I forgot how little empathy you all have, it's tragic how God's protectors of humanity care so little for them."

"Look, if I didn't care I wouldn't be here. But I gave my message, so let me go." Gabe glanced up towards Cas and scowled. "Just break the seal and I'll be gone. Believe me, it would be my pleasure to get away from this backwater town."

"Well, someone's a pissy little bitch." Dean commented.

"Watch it punk, I can summon lightning and could make you all blind and deaf if I wanted."

"Yet you don't. So you do care a little. Even if you don't comprehend the fact that you do." Sam noted.

Gabe rolled his eyes, "Look _wolfie_, my 'feelings' are my own-don't try to understand higher lifeforms than yourself."

"I would argue that an inability to truly feel emotions would place you lower than humans." Cas replied, coldly.

"Just let me go already."

"Not until I get an apology." Cas unfolded his arms and walked in front of Gabriel, "I appreciate that you warned us, but claiming I was not their father was both uncalled for and offensive."

"Cas might not be our biological dad, but he basically raised us-aside from a few not-so-great years on the road before he came into our lives." Sam began.

"Blood is one thing, but choosing to take care of someone makes them family. Real family." Dean concluded.

Gabe rolled his eyes, "What do you want me to say? _I'm sorry I don't understand human family dynamics?_ Get over it."

Cas looked dejected, "I suppose I no longer understand the family dynamics of heaven either. I had thought that my brother would be willing to support my decisions, when really he only intervenes out of guilt. And even then, only at the last moment." Cas turned away and walked to the wall, "Please return your vessel to their home before you return to heaven. He needs to be with his loved ones, who I'm certain you failed to notify of your intentions." Cas smudged the chalk as Gabriel sat silent for a moment before standing up and giving his brother's back a puzzled look, then turning toward Sam and Dean he walked out of the garage into the still night air and disappeared in a flash.


	10. Strawberry Quik

**Chapter 10:Strawberry Quik**

Gus opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle, shaking it to see how much was left he walked into the dining room and sat down at the table. He'd already made himself a sandwich with chips, and figured he could use a drink. After pouring himself a glass he put in two heaping teaspoons of Strawberry Quik, then vigorously stirred. Blood tended to clot if it sat too long. The beef blood wasn't exactly delicious unless he'd been fasting for a few days-and then anything red looked fantastic-so the strawberry powder helped the mixture taste a bit better.

He sipped the slurry-like drink through a straw between bites of his Swiss and ham on rye. The bottle was already nearly out, so after lunch Gus added it to the grocery list. _That butcher must think dad's a weird guy buying a gallon of blood every week._

Dale Green didn't think Bobby was weird. He thought he was a good customer with weird tastes. Bobby's orders were pretty standard aside from the gallon of beef blood every week. There was only one company left in the state that sold the stuff for consumers, and aside from Bobby no one else bought the liquid red vitality. So when he heard from his supplier that they'd stopped selling blood, he thought little of it.

Bobby's trip to the butcher was always Thursday afternoon. He closed the garage early on Thursday, so it gave him the chance to run errands in town. Green's Family Meats was on the main street, just past the town's firehouse. It was a short brick building with large display windows showing various cuts of meat. Besides the obvious need for blood, the store did offer higher quality meat than the local grocer-and Bobby appreciated that. He walked through the door to the jingle of a bell, and Dale popped out from the back room-apron spritzed with bits of blood from cutting apart the sides of beef.

"Afternoon Dale, I'll take the usual and an extra two pounds of ground 80/20. I'm having over Cas and the boys later in the week."

"Sure thing Bobby." Dale went to grab a pair of gloves, and went to work grabbing the meat from its cases. After a few minutes of small talk a pile of cutlets, steaks, and ground was packed into a paper bag and placed next to the register. "I almost forgot; Swanson's no longer selling beef blood. Apparently you were one of the few people buying it, so they discontinued it. Unfortunately I don't have any in the back, and no other vendors sell it in-state. Same thing happened with calf brains a few years ago and Mrs. McDonald nearly had my head back then. But unfortunately the market changes and they end up cutting things."

_Fuck. What the hell am I going to do for Gus?_ Bobby smiled, hiding his internal panic, "That's alright, I'll find a way to make do. Thanks for the heads-up Dale."

"Sure thing Bobby, have a good one."

Twenty minutes later Gus was freaking out. "What do you mean 'completely out'?!"

"I mean completely out. Dale's out and I checked with a few other nearby butchers-most haven't carried beef blood for years, and the few that did are also completely cleared out. When I called Swanson's Meat they said they weren't allowed to sell it anymore because they'd removed it from their HACCP plan, and the excess they did have was claimed by a sausage factory in Toledo." Bobby nervously wrung his hat as he sat across from his incredibly distressed son.

"So, how am I going to survive? I need fresh blood to live."

"For now you can try draining the steaks I bought, I'm going to try calling around and figure something out."

Draining steaks did not work well enough. The little blood that was removed tasted absolutely terrible and made Gus nearly gag. It wasn't working, and he was barely able to muster the energy to keep going. Gus had never fasted blood for more than a few days (when he was first turned Cas had secretly slipped him the vital liquid to keep him going without him knowing, and after he was aware of his condition he'd voluntarily drank the stuff daily), and with his body used to a regular 8 ounce serving each day he was going through what he assumed was withdraw coupled with bloodlust as he popped another Excedrin and stepped into Dean's Toyota on Monday morning. His head was pounding as he slunk into the back seat and closed his eyes.

"Hey, we heard about everything. Are you okay?" Sam turned to face Gus as Dean drove toward the school.

"Not really. I feel like I'm going to have my head rip open with this headache and I can barely stand dim lights. I have a feeling the fluorescent tubes in class aren't going to help."

"Cas is looking around for blood. He promised that the second he found something he'd call me." Dean pointed at his pocket, "Stay with us, and we'll get you through this. It'll be over soon." Dean reassured his cousin, genuinely smiling to comfort him. Gus reciprocated for a moment before returning to his slight grimace as his head throbbed.

The lights were too bright, the rooms too loud, and Gus felt awful. After a trip to the nurse after lunch-and another three aspirin-he went to gym. Physical exercise was normally an activity that Gus didn't mind too terribly. Because of his supernatural strength and speed he usually did well at the various stations. Today, however, he lagged behind the others, panting as he feebly did another set of crunches at the final station for the day. After the whistle Gus trudged to the locker room to change-gym was his last class for the day and he didn't want to go home in a smelly uniform. He changed and walked out of the men's locker room and paused at the foot of the stairs that led up to the first floor. Something smelled amazing.

An aroma wafted from the girl's locker room that Gus could only describe as heavenly. He had no idea what it was, but it got stronger as he stood by the door. Its source was getting close. It was a girl-a sophomore name Beverly. She had nicked her elbow on the corner of a locker and was holding a tissue to the cut. It was trickling blood slowly. Not nearly enough to be a concern for her, merely a nuisance. As Gus saw the red liquid begin to soak through the tissue he could feel his body screaming at him to get the blood at any cost. It took every ounce of control in his body to not launch himself at her and begin to suck on her arm.

Gus was alarmed at his impulse and immediately bolted up the stairs and out the school's front doors. There were still ten minutes until the bell, but he didn't care. He had to get away from all the walking blood-bags that were his classmates. If a slight cut caused him to do this he feared what would happen if someone got a nosebleed-or period. He couldn't risk their safety; he wasn't fit to be out while he was like this. Gus ran the three miles back home and bypassed saying 'hello' to Bobby as he dodged into the basement and locked himself in the bunker. He sat on the bed and pulled his knees to his chest, his head pounding as he quietly began to sob.

When Dean couldn't find Gus after class he called Bobby to see if he had somehow gotten home already.

"He didn't stop in to say 'hello'-and he always does that-but I'll quick check." Bobby walked into the house and checked the first and second floor. "He's not anywhere around here."

"You checked the whole house?" Dean asked, concerned.

"Well, everything but the basement. Gus never goes down there unless it's talking to Sam in the bunker." Bobby kicked himself as he realized, "Hold on." Half a minute later Bobby had descended the stairs to find his son curled in the fetal position in the shelter, going through what appeared to be the worst case of withdraw he'd ever seen. "Dean, he's here. He locked himself in the bunker. He's not looking good. I'm gonna talk to him, get here quick."

Bobby hung up the phone and walked over to the window of the bunker, "Hey, Gus. Dean just called asking about you."

Gus looked up from his fetal curl, his eyes deep in their sockets and raw from his tears. "Stay away from me…" He stuttered, "I'm a freak."

Bobby's heart broke as he heard those words. While calling Gus a monster might be technically accurate-though he rarely acted like it-calling him a freak was not. "Gus you're not a freak."

"Yes I am. I almost bit a girl today at school. I'm gonna end up biting someone… I can't stop it… stop me… I'm a total freak. I can't control it." He inhaled as he winced at a surge of pain.

"But you didn't. You aren't a freak. A freak would've attacked that girl and not cared. Gus, please look at me." Gus turned from the cot to look at his father, "I promise you we will fix this. Just hold on a little longer."

Gus nodded as he laid his head back down and tried to get to sleep, hoping that the rest might distract him from his urges.

"…Bobby, please."

"No. Dean it's too risky."

"I know it's risky, but what other option do we have?"

"Fine. But at least get someone else to do it. Someone qualified."

It was dark when Dean and Sam came down the stairs, followed shortly after by Bobby, then Cas. The bunker didn't have a clock, but Gus guessed it was at least eight or nine at night. The sleep had been fitful, and even with the few hours he felt like he was going through what he assumed would be the world's worst hangover symptoms. Dean was carrying a small cooler and a glass. When he reached the workbench he set down the cooler and pulled out a red bag-_BLOOD!_-Gus nearly shot up from the cot as he clawed at the door-the handle his past self had been smart enough to remove. Dean poured a small glass-only a few ounces-and carefully walked over to the bunker's cubby.

The cubby was a small box that could open one side at a time. Often Sam and Dean would pass things back and forth through the cubby while he was busy with his werewolf state, but in this case Sam was with Dean as he put the glass in the box and closed the door. Gus hurriedly opened the door on his side and gulped down the liquid from the glass. It tasted slightly different than usual, but it was blood, and for Gus it immediately helped ease his headache, and he was sure the pain would dissipate shortly afterward.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Dean asked, nervously looking through the window at Gus-hoping everything had worked.

"Much better." Gus quickly retracted his fangs as he nodded, "Where'd you get the blood? I thought there wasn't any nearby."

Dean's eyes shifted to his feet as the others also averted Gus' gaze, clearly something was amiss. Dean eventually took a deep breath and met Gus' eyes, "It was mine."

Gus recoiled in horror as he noticed the gauze taped to Dean's arm. It made sense; cow blood was by the gallon, not in a bag with attachments for an IV line. _I drank HUMAN blood. Oh God, oh God, oh God…_

"Before you say anything, please listen." Dean stated, having prepared in his mind for this in advance-as if it was truly possible to prepare for _this_, "I _chose_ to give my blood. It wasn't like you took it from me. I've still got plenty left, and I willingly have donated it for you." Gus opened his mouth, but Dean cut him off and continued, "You aren't, like, a fucking monster because you drank my blood. Human blood is simply a little more potent, but otherwise it's the same thing. It's all blood." Dean saw Gus process this and continued, "I donated because Sammy's blood would have _God knows what effect_ on you; Cas still has some angel mojo left in his veins-even if his soul isn't angelic, his body is still somewhat; and Bobby can't donate because of his veins collapsing the four times he insisted they try to draw from him before they drew mine. So come out and let's talk. You're not gonna rip anyone's throat open, okay?"

Sam opened the door and let Gus out. He hesitantly took a few steps before he paused and spoke, "Thank you Dean. I… I honestly don't know what to say."

"You don't have to. I know I'm awesome." Dean smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes, "But since you're only one person who can only give once every few weeks we do have a solution." He turned to Gus, "The Red Cross arranges blood drives and it's super easy to sign up to host one. Now, obviously you won't go to the drives-that would be like putting me in a room full of raw steak when I've changed-but it's pretty easy to mess with the paperwork and 'lose' a few bags during transit. We simply need to have a drive once a month and you'll be okay."

"And we will make sure you have what you need. Gus, you aren't a freak, you're family. Please never feel like we will judge you for less based on a decision outside of your control." Cas smiled, reassuringly. "No matter what blood you drink you remain in our common familial blood. Though, in reality none of us are actually blood relatives aside from Sam and Dean…" Cas shrugged.

Gus paused for a moment, before briefly swallowing. _Well, now's as good a time as any,_ "So, does that mean now would be a good time to talk about how I might be bisexual?"

Everyone paused for a moment before Dean turned towards Sam and held his hand out. Sam rolled hs eyes , then pulled out his wallet and gave him $5.


	11. Valentine's Day

Chapter 11: Valentine's Day

Sam panted as he reached the top of Birmingham Drive. The Jacksons had recently moved into the new cul-de-sac-which had been built on the opposite side of town from the Winchesters-and boasted being on the only hill in town. The incline wasn't terribly steep, but being nearly a half-mile stretch of uphill curves certainly winded Sam. Carol's family was well-off and her parents loved to show it. The large brick house sat at the very end of the drive and had a massive front yard-easily the size of the Winchester home's entire lot-that was perfectly green and manicured during the summer months, though now it was covered in snow like the rest of town. The colonial had seven windows across the second floor, with the center one being a massive arch hanging over the double doors which led to the entry. After parking his bike at the street (he knew better than to get it too close to either of the Mercedes parked in the driveway) Sam walked up the shoveled drive and rang the doorbell.

Mr. Jackson was not an intimidating man when compared to most people. He was average height, didn't look to be in particularly good shape, and according to Carol he dyed his hair. Clark Jackson, however, was involved with the mafia. Carol had confided to Sam that he and her uncle both were involved with organized crime, and when they were younger her father had been much more actively involved-apparently having done quite a few things in the 1960s that caused him to have to move from Philadelphia to Portland. He still was involved, apparently, but it was hidden under a series of shell companies as he managed to launder the proceeds of their illicit activities and skim a fair bit for himself in the process. Carol hadn't told Sam what exactly her father did, but he assumed it was the kind of thing where it was a bad idea to piss him off. And given that he didn't like Sam dating his daughter (to be fair he didn't like anyone dating his daughters), Sam was always nervous to avoid angering the potentially dangerous man.

So when Clark Jackson answered the door in a suit and tie wearing a look that cut straight through Sam, the boy with werewolf and demon blood felt like he was going to piss himself. "Good evening Mr. Jackson, sir. I'm here to pick up Carol-we're going out to watch Fools Rush In and then get something to eat…" He coughed, and was met with silence and a continued glare. "I brought her flowers…" Sam held up the bouquet of roses that had been partly crushed in his cross-town trek. Again, silence and a glare. "I phoned ahead to let you know when I was going to get here…"

As Sam was about to run out of ideas on how to appease the scowl of a man, Carol appeared at the top of the staircase. "Sam?" She turned towards her father, "Daddy! Stop scaring him! You know he's a nice boy and he'd never do anything to me! Let him in out of the cold." She smiled at Sam, "I'll be down in a minute, I just need to grab my purse." She disappeared down the hallway and Mr. Jackson begrudgingly allowed Sam-the commoner riff-raff- to enter the foyer.

"Thank you, sir. I have my cell number, and I promise if you call I'll-"

"Winchester, please shut up." He scowled at Sam, his patience clearly wearing thin for even being in Sam's presence. Sam obliged and snapped his mouth shut as Carol descended the large staircase and the two left the house. After a quick stop to get her bike from the garage the two were coasting down the hill toward the theater. Sam breathed a sigh of relief as the pair left the street and turned onto the road leading into town, Thank God I'm out of there, I swear he's going to try and stab me one of these days…

Dean rolled over to check the clock on his nightstand. The glowing numbers read that it was 8:14. He turned back towards the center of his bed, then smiled, "So, wanna go for a new record?"

Ava sighed, blowing her red hair out of her eyes as she leaned up in bed, her freckles-like Dean's-burning bright, flushing from their physical intimacy. "Well, we could go for a fourth time, or we could get something to eat."

Dean pondered the options-more sex was certainly tempting, even if he was pretty sure it wouldn't be a while until he was able to 'perform' again; but food was always a welcomed distraction, especially when he'd just burned a few hundred calories in the last hour-or-so… "I could eat. What're you thinking?"

"Maybe we could grab something quick and enjoy a walk?" Ava smiled and used her best puppy-dog eyes-something Sam had been more than willing to teach her-causing Dean to melt.

"Okay, but I'm grabbing an extra jacket. Last time we went for a walk it ended up with me feeling like a popsicle because you wanted to look at every icicle and snowman in existence." Dean stood up and walked over to his clothes pile by the foot of the bed, rooting around for his boxers.

"Looking for these?" Ava held up a pair of green plaid boxers, smirking. "You threw them in my pile."

Dean reached for them, with Ava pulling them out of reach. "Come on."

"Beg me for them." She smiled, wickedly.

"Really? Haven't I begged enough tonight?" Dean folded his arms and raised an eyebrow, reminding Ava of how he'd spent most of the evening on his knees.

"One more time won't kill you, and this time your mouth won't be too full to do it properly."

Dean blushed, before quickly trying to hide it, "Fine… Ava, please give me my boxers." He paused, and continued with more than a helping of trademark Dean sass, "Unless you want me to go commando and have a chaffed groin."

She pondered it for a moment before giving Dean his boxers, "While it would be funny to watch you have to deal with that, I'm feeling nice tonight." She kissed him before slipping the boxers on, sure to bump something sensitive while doing so.

"Gah! Watch it!" Dean jerked as she snapped the waistband into place, causing him to briefly wince again before the two continued to get dressed.

Gus flipped through channels as he sat on the couch in the living room. Bobby and Cas had made an annual tradition of going out bowling on Valentine's Day-as neither was particularly interested in romance anymore-which left Gus home alone to try and find something not romantic on television. There'd been something on the Spanish network he could try-but I don't speak Spanish-and a few infomercials. He sighed as he flipped to another channel; this one playing re-runs of The Love Boat. Man, I have to start dating someone!

The movie was good enough. Sam never loved romantic comedies, but Carol enjoyed them so he'd learned how to put up with the paper-thin plots as an excuse to have two attractive people fall in love while a series of unbelievable coincidences and hijinks brought them together. After the movie Sam and Carol left the theater and headed toward the Burger King. Even with Sam's hero reputation at the Outback it was impossible to get a seat on Valentine's Day (not that getting a seat on any Friday was easy at the relatively popular restaurant).

"So, if I may ask, how exactly did your family get into the supernatural?" Carol turned toward Sam as they biked along the shoveled sidewalk from the theater towards the Burger King. "You explained everything about your life from Cas until now, but Bobby said your dad used to be a hunter before that."

"Well, you know Cas didn't always look after Dean and I. We lived with our dad before he died." Sam turned to look at a stray dog across the street as it howled.

"Yeah, and he was a 'hunter' like Bobby used to be." Carol made air quotes as she spoke, narrowly avoiding a collision as her bike swerved without her guiding it.

"That's right." Sam inhaled, the cold coupled with the never fully-healed wound left him feeling a chill, "My dad was a hunter. But it wasn't just because. Basically everyone who gets into it has some reason-for Bobby it was when his wife died. It was the same for my dad. My mom died when I was a baby. Before then he was just a normal guy from Kansas, but when my mom suddenly burst into flames on the ceiling of my nursery…" Sam sadly looked at the stars, "Our whole world fell apart."

Carol was shocked. "Your mom burned to death stuck to the ceiling of your nursery?"

Sam nodded, turning from the stars to the shocked face of his girlfriend.

She quickly stopped her bike in front of his, causing Sam to have to brake rapidly to avoid hitting her. When he stopped they were inches apart. Before he could register a reaction she hugged him, cradling his much taller head against her shoulder, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I knew your parents were dead-which still sucks-but I didn't know your mom was the victim of some… well, something."

Sam-after getting over the momentary adrenaline rush from almost crashing spoke, "We never really did find out who or what exactly did it, it drove my dad nuts-at least according to Dean, I can't remember much from back then, thankfully… eventually he died because of a different monster-some werewolf, and we ended up with Cas." Sam smiled, lacking any warmth, "It's certainly ironic that I ended up the same flavor of freak that killed my dad."

Carol furrowed her brow, "You aren't a freak, Sam."

"Really? Who else do you know that has to lock themselves away for a week each month to make sure they don't go nuts and kill their family and friends out of an insatiable blood-lust?" He bitterly kicked a clod of snow as they walked across the Burger King parking lot, the iridescent light of the sign illuminating the surrounding area in a faint yellow glow as they walked from the bike rack toward the building.

"Sam, you've never hurt anyone, and according to Dean it's been years since you even showed a hint of loss of control as a werewolf. Somehow you're still you, even if it is a different body you're in."

Sam turned toward Carol, "While I appreciate your optimism I can't agree. It might be a body I'm in, but I'm not at the helm. I'm a passenger desperately wrestling the controls away from a pilot who only wants to destroy. If I can't reach others I can handle it, but with temptation I know I couldn't." With that the two entered the fast food establishment, the door jingling behind them as another stray dog walked past and looked hungrily through the plate-glass windows.

Dean and Ava had left the neighborhood and were walking aimlessly through the town. They'd nixed the food idea after realizing how impossible it would be to get a table anywhere remotely decent-and there's no way in hell I'm eating at a fast-food joint after what happened last time, Dean shuddered remembering the food poisoning that had kept him glued to the toilet for two days-and instead decided to just kill some time and double back to get some food at home later.

As they walked past a brick house with a snowman out front Dean heard a low growl. He turned to see a German Shepherd baring its teeth at him and Ava. The dog was only around thirty feet from them, and it was clear that it was intending to charge. Dean quickly put Ava behind him and locked eyes with the dog. It was clearly pissed off, it's eyes a dark amber with a frightening intelligence behind them.

"Ava, no sudden moves, we're going to walk slowly across the street away from the dog. If we don't show fear it shouldn't charge at us." Dean protectively extended his arm as the two backed away. The dog continued to growl, but didn't charge. Once they'd left the block it was on Dean let his guard back down.

"That dog should've been inside. It was way too mean to be left out on its own." Ava glanced nervously at the street behind them.

"It wasn't a pet. It didn't have a collar." Dean commented.

"Oh, well then I guess someone should've called the pound to get the dog catcher on that nasty furball." Ava crossed her arms.

"I doubt the dog catcher would've done much good. There was something not right about that dog. I don't know how, but it almost had the same eyes as Sammy when he's changed." Dean flipped out his phone, "I need to make a call for a sec."

"Great. Another strike. That's what, 224 for you and 86 for me?" Bobby finished scoring the eighth frame as Cas happily strolled back to his seat. He'd taken up bowling as a hobby a few years prior, and as it turned out, he was quite good at it.

"Indeed it is." Cas smiled, before taking a sip of his diet soda.

Before Bobby could come up with a retort to the smug look the former angel-turned-bowler was wearing, Cas' phone began to ring. He pulled out the small plastic device and flipped it open.

"Hello, this is Castiel Winchester."

"Oh, hi Dean." He glanced at Bobby, "Yes, he's here."

"No, just bowling."

"224." He smirked, as Bobby rolled his eyes and sat down beside Cas.

"Thank you."

"I'm not sure, let me put Bobby on."

Bobby placed the phone to his ear, "Hello?"

"Bobby, this is going to sound kind of weird, have you ever heard of evil German Shepherds?" Dean's voice wavered, clearly indicating his hesitance over the somewhat odd request.

"Aside from the ones from the Hitler regime, no. Most of those dogs are perfectly fine, why?"

"Well, it might've been me, but Ava and I were nearly attacked by one earlier tonight. When I stared it down I swore it looked at me like Sam does when he's changed, only different…"

Bobby's eyes widened and his brow furrowed, "Dean, is this the only dog you've seen tonight?"

"No, there've been a few others." He placed a hand over the receiver as he spoke to Ava, a muffled comment coming through, "Ava, how many others did we see?" He then uncovered the phone and continued, "We saw around a dozen others, most of them were friendly, but a few random strays as well as a couple of guard dogs."

"What did the strays look like?"

"A couple of bigger mutts that just looked at us as we walked past."

"And the guard dogs?"

"They were a few Dobermans. Why does it matter what they looked like?"

"Did any of them have collars?"

Dean thought back before he responded, "No, I don't think so."

"Shit." Bobby turned toward Cas. "You're going to have to take an incomplete game, shit's going down." He addressed Dean, "Dean, get your brother and get home. I'm calling Gus. Those are skinwalkers. Their bites are infectious and, not unlike werewolves, they think hearts are tasty candy year-round."

Sam hung up with Dean and nervously eyed the other patrons of the restaurant as he walked back to Carol, "Hey, Dean's coming to pick us up in a few minutes."

She cocked her head, "Why is Dean picking us up? We could ride back to your place."

Sam gritted his teeth as he sat down, then spoke in a low whisper, "There are creatures called skinwalkers in town. They can assume the form of dogs, and Dean almost got attacked by one while he and Ava were out earlier. Their bites are infectious and they aren't exactly big fans of Dean and I, because of the whole 'resisting the plan' thing. We don't know what they're planning, but it makes sense for all of us to be together to be ready for their next move."

Carol's eyes widened at the news, "Shouldn't we be warning people of what's out there?"

Sam shook his head, "And create mass panic? No, we have to regroup and figure out what's going on-then once we identify what they're doing, we act."

Carol held her tongue, but gave a clearly disapproving look as Sam sat back down and the two looked out the window, with Dean arriving in the Taurus not too long after.

After getting their bikes into the massive trunk of the station wagon, Sam and Carol sat in the back next to Ava while Dean was up front with Cas.

"So, what's the plan?" Sam asked, only to be met with silence as the others knew as little about their adversary as he did.

Bobby had pulled out a large map of North Plains and had it sitting on the dining room table when the group arrived.

"So, what exactly is the plan?" Dean asked, turning toward Bobby-hopeful that the ex-hunter had some experience with skinwalkers that might prove useful in the current situation.

"Well, to be honest there really isn't much of a plan aside from trying to lure the things out and use some silver on 'em..." Bobby responded, plotting dots on the map.

"While that's all fine and dandy for some people, I can't touch the stuff-remember?" Sam irritatedly remarked.

"Which is why you're staying here with the girls." Bobby turned towards Ava and Carol, "We don't want to risk anyone who isn't combat ready, and no offense to either of ya, but we haven't seen you fight and I don't want to explain to your parents why you have battle scars."

"Fair enough." Carol replied, with Ava nodding in agreement.

"Good, the rest of us will head towards Elm Avenue-based on what you boys mentioned earlier it seems like that's close to the center of the pack-and try to lure them out, then we have a few dogs to euthanize."

Sam crossed his arms and frowned, "Still in the room."

"Sorry, bad choice of words. But in all seriousness we need to be careful, these things hunt in packs and are pretty nasty."

Bobby wasn't lying, there were seven skinwalkers in the area, and they weren't fucking around. After finding Mr. Donahue dead in the alley between Elm and Oak, and Mrs. Nicholson-also alleviated of her heart-a half block later it was clear they were in the correct area. If it wasn't for Gus being a crack shot and killing one charging at a young couple, it would've been four victims instead of two. The gunshot drew the attention of the other skinwalkers, and soon six large dogs were encircling the two humans, vampire, and former angel. The dogs circled closely, with a large black dog barking at the others, standing outside the ring as the other attacked.

After dodging an initial lunge from the closest dog-a large Doberman, Bobby stuck one with a silver knife. As he did so Dean quickly dealt with his own attacker, a large mutt with foaming jowls. He attempted to stab the beast, but failed, instead being pinned by the large dog. As he tried to wriggle free he saw its eyes narrow and felt a brief sting as its jaws clamped down on his shoulder, before Cas unloaded a shot into its skull. The viscera exploded onto Dean's jacket as he felt blood beginning to seep from the wound.

Before Dean could react all but one of the beasts had been killed, with Gus holding a blade to the neck of the final dog, "Alright you bastard, change back. We need answers and you need to talk if you want to keep breathing."

Begrudgingly the dog complied, shifting from a large black dog into a man. Not unlike Sam, the transition clearly was painful for him, but it appeared to be much quicker, as it was evident he'd changed many times. The man appeared to be a Native American, his ruddy skin and black hair clearly having influenced the dog's appearance as a large black beast with dark brown eyes. Gus clamped a pair of silver cuffs on the man's wrists before they continued.

"I am sorry." He stated, his eyes mournful as he looked downward. "I told them not to harm innocents, but the temptation is great when you are as the beast." His eyes met Dean's and glanced at the arm holding his shoulder, the bite now leaking crimson into his denim jacket. They widened, "Oh no... my child, did they..."

The others turned toward Dean, just noticing the wound as he replied, "Yeah, they kinda fucking did." Dean stated, enraged at the audacity of the man to call him 'his child' mere moments after attacking them.

"Please, don't spare me... I do not deserve to live." He hung his head, ready for a knife, which Gus nearly supplied before Bobby stayed his hand, taking the knife from him.

"Why did you come here? Who sent you?" He asked, in a surprisingly level tone.

"We were contacted by a demon, I don't know his real name, only that he was apparently quite important. He claimed that he had a way to insure us that we wouldn't be tortured for eternity-as long as we did what they asked of us."

"What did they ask of you?" Cas asked, stepping forward, his eyes narrowed in rage at the harm of his son. If it werent for Bobby the man would've already been dead at my hands.

"To find Sam Winchester and convince him to join us. If he could be in our pack we could convince him to turn away from his brother and eventually leave him, allowing 'the plan' to happen."

"Then why the hell'd you bite me?!" Dean asked, angrily applying pressure to his shoulder wound.

"I did not bite you, my companion did. He was always rash, but he was one of my pack, I could not ask him to stay behind."

"So, what, am I one of your pack now because of this?!" Dean angrily yelled, gesturing at his arm, "Because you better fix this!"

The man's eyes fell as he replied, "I cannot fix it. I have tried many times, but once bitten there is no way to reverse the effects. You are one of us now. You are a yee naaldlooshii, one who walks on all fours. I wish I could undo it, as it is my fault for agreeing to this horrible decision. Now I am the last of my pack, aside from you, and I will soon be dead, and you will have no one to guide you. A fitting legacy, I suppose, for someone as stupid as I have been." He hung his head, "Go ahead, kill me. Please send me to the hell I deserve."

Bobby remained still with the knife, before motioning to Gus to step aside, where he undid the man's cuffs. The others were outraged.

"Bobby, what the hell are you doing?!" Cas shouted, stepping forward to try and grab he knife from him.

"Cas, how many times did you ignore people who were hurting as an angel? How often did you overlook tragedy or misfortune because it was part of the plan that you were told was right and holy? Did he do anything worse than you did, or for that matter, what your brethren have done since you descended to earth?"

Cas was silent a moment before he stepped back, understanding, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone..." he muttered.

"I don't get it. What's going on?" Gus asked, confused at the sudden change in tone.

"I do." Dean replied, "No one is evil because of what they are, only because of what they do." Dean pointed at the man, "He was misled into attacking us, and he clearly doesn't want to hurt anyone else, so he really isn't a monster. He's like us, stuck between heaven and hell, and regardless of the choice he makes someone hates him."

"Well spoken." The man replied.

"So, what now? Am I going to be like Sam and be forced to change, then get the choice?"

"Your first change will not be until you are ready, which may be days, weeks, or even months. You have to prepare yourself for it. It is a deeply spiritual experience and requires total dedication to the decision. Normally there is a spiritual elder to act as a guide, but I assume you have had enough of my presence at this point..." he trailed off, clearly ashamed of himself.

"Well, if I have to undergo some fucking spiritual training montage bullshit I kinda want a qualified person helping me out. No offense to anyone else, but I'd argue at the moment you're the best option I've got." Dean sighed, then stuck his hand out, "I'm Dean Winchester."

The man blinked, surprised at the fact that death threats had so quickly become acceptance, "I'm David Yazzie."

"Well Dave, get ready for a pull-out sofa bed, because until Dean's able to do all the fun nonsense that comes with being a skinwalker your ass is living in my study." Bobby crossed his arms, "And if you try anything I'll make sure the ex-angel with a knife collection and a papa wolf complex pays you a visit."

Cas did his best to look intimidating, which was extremely unsettling given the dissonance between the look of pure hatred and malevolence and the ridiculous bowling outfit he was wearing. "I will allow you to teach my son, but if you try to harm him or have him harm others I will destroy you. We are not enemies at the moment, but that can change quite quickly."

And with that Dean could no longer call Sam a furry-as he was also now a canid-in-training-and his weeknights suddenly were filled with a lot more yoga and meditation than the teen had planned for in a lifetime. I swear to God if anyone takes a picture of me doing this I will fucking end them, and that includes you Gus! Put down the Polaroid!


	12. Do Birthdays Count if You're Ageless?

Chapter 12: Do Birthdays Count if You're Ageless?

For some people coherence before 10 am is a gift. Gus was one of those people. For Gus Singer it was difficult enough to roll out of bed and get ready for school, let alone get everything ready for the start-of-semester presentation he had to give. He'd been smart enough to do the actual project well enough in advance, but making sure to get the floppy disk, his notes, and the research portfolio packed (then double checking to make sure he had everything correct) tested his mental faculties for early morning. It wasn't even until he descended the stairs that he realized what the date was. It was March 10th, his birthday.

Bobby usually didn't make a terribly big deal out of Gus' birthday (at his request), but this year he had decided to make a slightly larger fuss-being his 18th birthday, becoming a man and all. Bobby had put up a few streamers downstairs in preparation of that evening's party (a relatively small affair, with Cas and the boys being the only other guests outside of Bobby and Dave, who was now living with them for the time being). As Gus entered the kitchen and sat down Bobby turned around from the stove and grinned.

"Morning Gus. Happy birthday, son."

"Morning Dad, what's with the Cheshire smile?" Gus knew when Bobby was trying to hide something from him-Bobby was quite easy to read once you got to know him.

"Nothing... For now. You'll find out tonight at the party." He smirked.

"Fine," Gus smiled, "I suppose I can wait until then."

After a breakfast of dippy eggs and toast with a side of sausage Gus grabbed his bag and waved goodbye to Bobby as he walked outside and down the front walk. Dave was outside in the early morning cold-he seemed to enjoy meditating in any weather-he was wearing a heavy wool jacket and sitting on the bench they had alongside the garage wall. Dave had become somewhat of a fixture in the Singer household. While not exactly a friend of the family he certainly had become a part of their lives, a quiet and brooding constant that seemed to be equal parts mournful and hopeful as he held himself mostly in silent meditation. When Dean came cover for his lessons he did speak more, but even then it was often quite little-usually focusing more on breathing and poses than on words. Dean didn't seem to enjoy it based on the contorted looks his face made while trying to move his limbs to match the movements that the practiced meditator made.

Dean picked Gus up for school and allowed him the privilege of sitting in the front seat-despite the schedule Sam and him had made he didn't often get to sit up front, not that he usually minded terribly, he could still annoy Dean just as much from the backseat if need be.

"So, birthday boy, what's your first declaration of adulthood?" Dean inquired as Gus took the passenger seat.

Gus smiled smugly, "I declare that I shall have full control of the radio on the way to AND from school today."

Dean scowled slightly, "Fine. It is your birthday, but pick a station and stick to it for once."

"I had something different in mind." Gus picked up a cassette tape from his backpack.

"You wouldn't dare." Dean's eyes widened as Gus broke into an evil grin.

"Oh, but I would..."

When the Toyota pulled into the school parking lot Dean looked as if he was going to die. On the other hand, both Sam and Gus were belting out the lyrics to 'I'll Never Break Your Heart' with massive and obnoxious grins. Dean hated boy bands, particularly the Backstreet Boys, so naturally the two used any opportunity they got to torture him with the terrible songs. "AS TIME GOES BY YOU WILL GET TO KNOW ME A LITTLE MORE BETTER..."

As Dean killed the ignition he whipped around to face the two, "I want you to know that I will get you back for this. It might be your birthday, but with God as my witness you will pay for making me listen to that..." He cringed, "...monstrosity of a pop group."

Gus and Sam exchanged a quick look, "Totally worth it."

"And it will be later today when we finish the tape on the way home." Gus cackled.

School went by quickly, and Gus' presentation was successful aside from the usual technological mishap (he seemed to be a walking disaster when it came to operating anything more complex than a television set). His report on the history of the highway system in the United States for history was a success, aside from the stupid clicking noise the projector kept emitting. Though to be fair, it may have been the heating system as Gus swore he heard the same noise later in the day as he hurriedly stuffed his books into his locker and grabbed his gym uniform. In either case, things went well, and with the day behind him it was time to again torture Dean...

After getting dropped off and having his tape thrown into the snow (Hey! That was $9.99!) Gus waved to Sam and Dean, knowing they'd be back in a few hours-Dean for his meditation and Sam with Cas for the party. Dave was still in the same spot as in the morning-Gus still wasn't sure whether he sat in the same place all day, or if he simply liked to use the same place for multiple meditation sessions-and once again acknowledged Gus with a curt nod as he passed. When Gus opened the door t aroma of fresh baked goods immediately hit him. Bobby had been in the kitchen for a few hours working on a birthday cake (and pie for Dean, who absolutely refused to eat cake), and it smelled absolutely amazing.

"Whatever you made, it smells awesome!" Gus poked his head in the kitchen to see Bobby finishing up the last of the dishes he had to clean from the baking process.

"Well I certainly hope it does, it took almost all afternoon. Though, given that it's your favorite..." Bobby nodded toward the counter where a large coconut cream cake sat.

"Did you use pineapple custard filling?" Gus eyed the cake hungrily, knowing that if he got too close a quick hand would make sure he didn't grab any.

"And I used real Karo syrup because you claim you can taste the difference." Bobby rolled his eyes.

"You can." Gus responded, edging toward the cake.

"Son, if you even think about getting a slice of that before the party tonight I will not hesitate to smack you with the leftover icing." Bobby picked up a pastry bag and walked it to the fridge for it to chill.

"Fine. I guess I'll have to wait for that as well."

"It'll be worth it, I promise."

The party was slightly larger than Gus had initially anticipated. In addition to Sam and Dean Ava and Carol also came over. Gus didn't mind, the two girls were friends as much as Sam and Dean were-and given that they were in on his secret he didn't have to pretend to have some medical condition to explain why he still looked like a nine year old. Everyone had arrived by six, with Dean and Dave coming in from their meditation time shortly before the rest of the guests. Apparently tonight had been a bit better than some of the more frustrating times, Dean didn't look as uncomfortable as a Texan at a vegan convention, but he hadn't managed the transformation quite yet.

"Dean you are making good progress. It will happen when you are ready."

"Well, I'm kinda ready now..."

"When your spirit and mind are ready. Now only half is prepared, but you are getting closer."

Shortly afterward Cas and the other arrived, with the Taurus having acted as a carpool for the rest of the guests. The wagon was surprisingly large, leaving enough room for the four passengers and their gifts. Gus hadn't expected too much in terms of gifts (he had asked for cash) and was surprised to see the group carrying a collection of different rectangular boxes.

After the absolutely divine cake everyone retired to the living room for Gus to open his gifts and for the group to relax.

"Well, thank you for all of this. I honestly hadn't expected much-I only asked for cash-but I see you all care too much to spare me my blushes and have decided to go with gifts." Gus smiled. "So, dad, should I open yours first?"

Bobby returned Gus' grin, "I'd save it for last, make a proper finale."

"Alright. In that case I guess I'll start with Sam."

Sam had gotten Gus a few video game for his PS1, "It's Tekken 2. You don't have it yet, and from what I've heard it's pretty good."

Gus appraised the game, skimming the back cover, "It looks pretty good. We'll have to try it later." He approvingly placed the game on the coffee table next to half-a-dozen others stacked there.

Dean was next, he had gotten Gus a clear plastic telephone, "Because you keep bitching about how yours is broken and this was the coolest looking one they had as a replacement."

Ava had gotten Gus a subscription to National Geographic-a pleasure read for Gus when he wasn't busy helping his cousins save the town. And Carol had gotten him a gift certificate to Sears-which is basically cash, only better. Cas finished up the lead-up gifts with a VHS triple pack of the Star Wars trilogy-of which Gus was a big fan. Finally it was Bobby's turn.

Bobby held up a single small box and gave it to Gus. Gus felt the box, it was light, and didn't seem to make much noise aside from the rustling of paper when he shook it. As he tore off the paper he revealed a plain brown cardboard box, and opened the flap to see what was inside. It was a set of keys. Specifically, the set of keys to a 1988 Dodge Colt Wagon.

"A car?!" Gus' mouth nearly hit the floor in shock.

"Yup." Bobby smiled.

Gus leapt over the coffee table and picked his father up in a bear-hug, which was quite the sight as a small child lifted a grown man with his super strength. "This is awesome! You're awesome!"

"You know it." Bobby sat back down before he continued, "I modified the pedals and everything so it works with your height. You'll be able to drive it without any issues."

"Now if only you had a license…" Dean quipped as Gus shot him a glare.

Gus lay in his room after the party, content. It had been a good night. His gifts were awesome, but more importantly he had a good time with friends and family. It was weird to think about his birthday, given that he didn't really age. Do birthdays count if you never end up dying? He shrugged. Gus had plenty of angst over what he was, but right now he didn't have the energy to delve into it, and besides, for the moment he felt good. It would be a good night to just relax and doze off.

As Gus finally began nodding off he heard a slight chirping sound. It was the same sound as earlier in the day at school. He cracked an eye open, he didn't see anything in the dark room. He flicked on the table lamp on his nightstand and looked around. The noise happened again, but there wasn't any visible source. It sounded like it was coming from his desk. Gus left his bed and crept toward the noise, eventually settling on his backpack. He unzipped it and saw nothing but books and some paper. I must be going nuts, I'm hearing things…

As he was rezipping the bag he heard the chirp again. Suddenly a cricket jumped out of his bag. Gus blinked, before realizing that he must've carried the bug home in his bag.

"Well, little guy let's get you outside, I don't want to hear you chirping all night." Gus stooped down to pick up the bug, but when he grabbed it in his hand he felt a sudden jab as it bit him.

"OW! What the hell?!" He dropped th bug and looked at the small red mark on his hand. "Fine then. If you're going to be a little bastard." Gus picked up a sneaker from the floor near his closet and swatted the bug, he landed a hit directly on it, but the hit only seemed to enrage the bug. It kept at him and tried to bite him again.

Gus looked around and saw what he needed. He grabbed the empty glass from his nightstand and a piece of paper and caught the bug, then slipped the paper under it to trap it in the glass. He then opened the window and tossed it into the snow before going to bed. Man was that thing a pest.

If one was a pest, dozens were a nuisance, and the amount that fell out of the vents during Sam's history class was a plague. As Norm and Zach leapt out of their chairs the stream continued to pour out of the vents and into the room. The students quickly cleared into the hall, with a number of other rooms on the first floor following suit. Girls shrieked as the insects got caught in their hair, and most of the school evacuated outside to avoid the insects biting them. Within minutes only Sam, Dean, Gus, Ava, and Carol remained in the school. The group ran to avoid the swarm and find a safe place to make a plan, eventually holing up in the old band storage closet, the one room in the building without any vents connecting it to the rest of the school. As Sam flicked on the overhead lights the five listened to the chirping and scratching noises, knowing that their safe haven wouldn't remain bug-free for long.

"Well this is fantastic." Ava brushed her clothes to make sure no insects were still trapped in her sweater. "A literal plague of locusts. I'm guessing heaven did this."

"It fits their pattern, the dickwads." Dean angrily checked himself for any stowaways, immensely creeped out at the feeling of the tiny legs that had been crawling on him.

"So, how exactly do we stop a swarm of mindless insects?" Sam nervously eyed the door.

"Mindless invulnerable insects." Gus corrected. "One of these things ended up in my backpack yesterday and I couldn't crush it, and when I trapped it I tried to use Raid, but it didn't work. It's still in a glass jar on my desk at home."

"So blunt force and poison don't work." Carol placed a hand on her face, "This is literally my worst nightmare. I'm going to be eaten alive by bugs."

"No one is getting eaten. We just need to figure out what the hell their weakness is." Dean leaned back and accidentally switched on a large device leaning against the wall. A high pitched tone rang out as the group cringed and the boys covered their ears.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" Gus shouted, shielding his hypersensitive ears from the noise.

"IT'S THE TONE GENERATOR WE USE TO MAKE SURE WE'RE IN TUNE. ONE OF THE JACKASSES IN LOW BASS MUST'VE MESSED WITH THE SETTINGS!" Sam shouted in reply, his lupine ears not receiving the high pitch well.

"HOW DO I SHUT IT OFF?" Dean started looking for a cord keeping one hand firmly planted on his ear as he did so, only to be left realizing the device was somehow battery powered.

Sam walked over and switched it off, leaving the room silent and allowing everyone to pop their ears.

"Do you hear that?"Ava looked at the door.

"Hear what?" Dean replied.

"Exactly!" She opened the door, to the other's horror. But instead of a swarm of insects pouring in they were met with a pile of bugs lying on the ground, twitching. "The bugs cant handle that frequency. It doesn't kill them, but we can walk around with the tone generator and be safe to try out different options until we figure out what to do."

"Alright. I guess we better get to a science lab and get to work."

"So that's a no to salt, ice, acid, every pesticide and cleaner in the school janitorial supply, and crushing." Carol marked another 'X' on the list of failed attempts. It had been over an hour of trying, and the only thing that had even a slight effect was ice. The locusts didn't like cold, but it didn't kill them, only made them slow. Thank God its winter or they'd've tried to leave the school and spread. Periodically turning on the tone generator kept the bugs at bay, but it was doing a number on the boys' ears-as supernatural senses meant supernatural sensitivity.

"Have we tried fire yet?" Sam tossed a crumpled up piece of paper into a wastebasket in the corner of the room.

Carol flipped over the sheet and glanced at the list. "Not yet, it's worth a shot."

After Gus had set up a Bunsen burner the group placed a locust over the flame. It immediately disintegrated as if made of paper. "Yes! Finally!" Gus cheered as the others celebrated.

"Wait." A realization dawned on Sam, "How are we going to burn all these insects without burning down the school?"

There was a pregnant pause before Ava spoke up, "Dean, where do you keep your extra hairspray?"

Dean wasn't happy that the others had discovered that he used hairspray. He'd managed to even hide the fact from Sam, who immediately mocked him for a good ten minutes after discovering that it was in fact AquaNet that Dean used to keep his signature look in place. Dean forked up his stash, with Ava and Carol raiding the girls' locker room for a few extra cans before Gus lowered the school's main temperature to 45 degrees and turned the gym up to a tropical 80. With the temperature difference the bugs quickly migrated to the warmer room, and when a sweep of the school revealed no stragglers the five set their plan in motion.

"Remember, this stuff is highly flammable." Sam pointed at a large warning on the label. "Check the spray direction before you light, and always keep it at least six inches away from the can."

"How do you even know this? You never use hairspray." Dean remarked.

"Well, even though you use it." Sam smirked, "I know a bit about pyrotechnics. What else do you think a bunch of teenage boys do when they're bored at soccer camp?"

Before Dean could reply Ava quickly elbowed him and gave him a glare to shut him up, "No."

The group peered through the gym doors one last time to see the mass of writhing insects covering the gym floor. It was something out of a horror movie-like most of the rest of their lives. Dean kicked in the door and led the charge as the group quickly began spraying anything in their way with a mist of aerosol and fire.

The next morning Bobby sipped coffee at the breakfast table as he read the newspaper report on a freak infestation of self-immolating insects at the secondary school. As Gus descended the stairs he pointed at the front page. "Let me guess, this is why you came home yesterday smelling like burnt hair and garbage?"

"Yup."

"Well, you could've called and asked for help or something!" He folded the paper and crossed his arms.

"I know, but in the moment we kinda forgot…" He smiled sheepishly, before a devilish twinkle took over, "But next one I promise you and Cas can have all to yourselves."

"Oh no, I am too old for doing this shit alone-and even with a former angel it's still a pain in the ass." Bobby replied as Gus rolled his eyes and smiled, grabbing the juice out of the fridge. I might be an adult now-technically-but I swear some things never change...


	13. St Patrick's Day

**Chapter 13: St. Patrick's Day**

"Wow. That is _a lot_ of green." Dean blinked to make sure he was seeing everything correctly. He was. Ava's father was arguably the most proud Irishman to ever walk the earth this side of the emerald isle. As Dan O'Hare stepped out to grab the morning paper Dean had to restrain himself from gawking at his girlfriend's father. In addition to his shirt, tie, pants, and socks being green (and Dean surmised his underwear very well may be) he'd also dyed his hair and mustache green with spray-on hair dye.

"Morning Dean!" He waved, "Where's your green?"

Dean looked down quickly at his outfit. His jeans, dark colored Converse high-tops, and black t-shirt under a red flannel and winter jacket all lacked the signature color of the day. "Well, I'm not Irish unfortunately, so I must've forgotten."

Dan smirked as he quickly walked across the cement driveway, "You know what that means…"

"I swear, if you pinch me…" Dean took a half step back from the 6'4 giant of a man whose grip was well known-_Ava, why the hell does your dad always do the same party trick crushing soda cans?-_and one of the few humans that Dean was somewhat intimidated by.

After a brief weltering pinch on the ear Dean collected Ava and the two headed to the pre-heated car where Sam was busy fiddling with his backpack. Normally Ava drove herself to school, but her car was at Bobby's getting a new muffler after the old one fell off. She also had embraced the St. Patrick's Day spirit, wearing a forest green sweater and jeans. She slid in the passenger seat and turned to face Sam.

"Well, it looks like at least one of you remembered what today was." She nodded approvingly at Sam, who was wearing a green t-shirt emblazed with the album art from _Insecticide_. It was his only green shirt aside from a particularly uncomfortable dress shirt he'd bought last minute before a band concert.

A few minutes later across town Gus also was sporting green when he was picked up, "Well, I am part Irish after all." He commented, gesturing at his green striped t-shirt.

"Dean forgot." Sam noted.

"Really Dean?" Gus feigned an aghast manner, "After all these years you don't care enough about us?"

"I guess not." Ava quipped before giving Dean a quick peck as he pulled out of the Singer's drive and headed toward school.

North Plains, Oregon has a modest farming community outside of the town center. To support the local farms a reservoir was constructed to help provide additional water during dry times in the 1960s. While not heavily drawn upon in recent years due to improved farming methods and other irrigation and water conservation efforts the reservoir continues to be useful. Lind Reservoir, in addition to this purpose, is also a fishing and boating destination for locals. The county game commission stocks trout at the location each year, and with the pleasant country air it is seen as a quiet day excursion for many.

During March the reservoir is usually frozen over, but with a string of warmer days the ice had melted, leaving the cold water relatively still in the early morning as the Winchesters and their cohorts began school and Castiel, Bobby, and the other adults went about their business. Relatively is the primary word in this phrase, because despite the still air a small ripple began in the center of the water, as it grew and roiled the water nearly foamed before stilling. From the placid pool a creature emerged, followed by two more of its kind. The slithering beasts' scales slid across the shore before they communed and headed east.

Dean deeply regretted not wearing green. So far nearly everyone in school had managed to pinch him before he took cover in the janitor's closet, taking in a deep breath as he did so. Dean looked for something green he could possibly wear, rummaging through his backpack. There was nothing. _Well, shit. This is going to be a long day…_

Larry Caldwell was busy in town most of the morning before he returned to his dairy farm. His hired help (Bill, Frank, and Jed) had spent the morning helping him set up a few new fences that had been busted overnight because of the storm, though they had run out of wire for the electric fence and he'd had to run to the hardware store in town to pick up a reel. When he returned he immediately felt something was wrong. While there wasn't usually a ton of noise on the farm, there was usually at least the mooing of the cattle and the sound of one of the guys driving the truck around to bring out feed or check on some part of the herd that'd been toward the edge and hadn't been fed yet. Right now the farm was entirely silent.

"Bill? Frank? Jed?" Larry called as he clicked the door shut on his pickup and walked across the gravel drive toward the barn. "Where are you?"

When he entered the barn his stomach churned. Dozens of cattle had been ripped apart by something. Blood and viscera littered the floor, with the occasional limb or head leaving an indication as to what the mess had once been. _There's no way in hell a coyote did this… So what the fuck did?!_

Larry quickly ran through the barn's rear door and saw the rest of his herd, slaughtered in the pasture. Not far from them was the second pickup._ God, please let them be okay…_ He ran over to the red truck and saw what looked like streaks of blood across the seat, as well as what he was pretty sure was Bill's left arm. As he backed up, horrified, he stepped on something soft that made a squelching noise. _Please let it be a cow._ It wasn't.

Thirty minutes later Larry was explaining to Chief Hawkins what had happened. "I swear to God, I have no idea what happened, but it looks like an animal tore them all to bits."

"It's certainly… disturbing." Hawkins had been chief for a little over a decade, and it seemed as if North Plains had a flair for the weird and unexplainable. He swore the town was cursed, but kept it mostly to himself to avoid inciting panic in the public. He turned as the rookie, Saul Terrell, quickly vomited behind a bush, having been tasked with photographing the scene. _Something wrong happened here. But I have no idea what the hell it is._

Bobby had long ago put away his police scanner, but he seemed to have an uncanny ability to find out about what was going on in town. Today was no different. After finishing the new muffler on Ava's car he replaced the tires on a '91 Dodge Dynasty, then set to work on a '95 Subaru Impreza. The car belonged to a newcomer, some rookie cop who had been in Portland for training but ended up out in North Plains for his job. Apparently the city hadn't been interested in hiring him for some reason or another, so he ended up out in the 'burbs. When Terrell came to pick up his car that afternoon he was a good bit paler than when he had dropped it off for inspection the day before.

"What happened to you? You look awful." Bobby cocked his head as Saul entered, noting the pale face on the otherwise youthful man.

"Pretty messy scene today. I didn't think I'd have to deal with an entire farm of cows turned to chutney and three guys who had to be identified through dental records when I took a job in the boonies-no offense."

"What do you mean, 'turned to chutney'?"

"It looked like something out of a horror movie. The cows were completely shredded, and the farmhands weren't much better. It looks like an animal did it, but what animal rips apart an entire heard in one shot?" Saul exhaled deeply as he filled out the pickup paperwork and paid his bill. After he left Bobby flipped over his sign to 'CLOSED' and dialed Cas.

Halfway across town in a model home Cas had just finished conducting a tour with James and Sandra Williamson, who had decided to move to North Plains to get out of Portland and start a family. "And that finishes up our tour of the Avery model. Now, there are two other models available in this neighborhood-the Benson and the Charlotte-and I can give you the appropriate…" Cas looked down at his pocket as it began to buzz, "Excuse me for just one moment."

"Castiel Winchester, Winchester-Goldman Realty. How can I find your dream home today?"

"Okay." He nodded.

"Yes, that is odd."

His eyes widened, "How many?"

"Definetly. I'll be there shortly." He hung up and turned back to the young couple, "Unfortunately I have a family emergency I have to tend to, but I can follow up at any time to continue showings of this community or one of the other nearby ones." He ushered the Williamsons toward the door, then to their car, "Thank you again for choosing Winchester-Goldman. Have a wonderful day." Their somewhat bewildered faces reflected in his rearview as he peeled out of "Plainfield Estates" and headed north towards the Caldwell farm.

When he arrived he greeted Bobby and observed the leftover crime scene tape from the former active crime scene. At the moment the police were finished, though it was entirely plausible they may return if they needed additional samples or images of the massacre. _Massacre certainly was the right word_, Cas thought. While he'd fought in many battles, humanity had a way of making one sensitive to things that they had already experienced-especially if they were horrific or violent.

"Jesus…" Bobby exhaled as he looked at the dozens of cow corpses-the human ones taken away by a coroner, "What the hell caused this?"

"I have no idea, but I believe your assertion of hell is correct."

"Even so, this was some sort of creature. No way a demon could do this kind of damage in a human vessel. Some beast was involved." Bobby pointed at the marks on the hides of one of the more intact cows.

"It almost looks like claw marks, but the spacing is too inconsistent." Cas observed.

"I thought the same thing-but what could do this, and still manage to escape before Caldwell got home? He wasn't gone long, yet this thing managed to destroy his entire farm."

"Well, it didn't do it to drink the blood-that much is clear." Cas noted, stepping in a pile of cow blood, frowning and withdrawing his shoe, "Or eat much, it looks like none of the cows were dragged off." He pointed at the fence, "And whatever it is, it can get through an electric fence without any problem."

"Well, I think we've seen enough here for the moment. Let's try to figure out what did this, because I have no idea what matches this carnage."

Back at Bobby's the research wasn't going great. Because they had no idea what caused the mess it was mostly a shot in the dark. "Maybe a chupacabra?" Bobby guessed, flipping another page in a tome.

"No, it would have drank blood, and they rarely attack during the day." Cas paused, "Could it be a wendigo?"

"No, there would've been previous attacks, and this is the first time anything like this has ever happened in the area as far back as the town records go." Bobby wearily flipped another page, hoping to find an answer.

As he did so Dave came into the dining room. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and a blue shirt. Since he'd moved in with Bobby he'd cleaned himself up a bit. He now sported a much shorter haircut and often helped Bobby and Dean in the shop. While he wasn't mechanically inclined he could do all the paperwork, and tended to be a better secretary than Gus. "What are you two up to? Normally you would be complaining about a transmission right now."

Bobby looked up, "Something attacked the Caldwell Farm. Our kind of something."

"Well, we think it's our kind of something, we don't know what it is." Cas added.

"What happened?" Dave sat down at the table, his brow heavy.

"Something attacked the cows and killed them along with three farmhands. The corpses looked like there were claw marks, but the spacing was inconsistent and there wasn't any real consistency with swiping." Bobby relayed.

Dave was quiet a moment before he responded, "Where is the Caldwell Farm?"

"North side of town. Out in the country, not far from the reservoir. Normally it's quiet countryside out there." Bobby pointed to a map he had out of town, showing the Lind Reservoir and the farm. "But not today."

Dave furrowed his brow further, "Have you considered a horned serpent?"

"A what?" Bobby raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the creature in question.

"A horned serpent, a massive snake with horns that dwell in water and often attack those foolish enough to enter its domain. They are quite well known among native peoples."

"A giant snake on Saint Patrick's Day, how fitting." Cas quipped, sure that the demons who did this had planned on the irony.

"So, how exactly do you kill one of these things?" Bobby inquired, pulling out a pen and paper to start making a list of items they would have to gather.

"According to legend the only thing which can kill them is a sacred arrow fired through their seventh stripe. I know the blessing, but I lack arrows."

"Alright. I guess we need to run to Carson's and get some arrows."

After a brief trip to the local sporting goods store the three men had all the supplies. Bobby had bought more than enough arrows-_better to be safe than sorry with giant snakes-_and after Dave had blessed them with a brief prayer and some sage and special dirt they pulled the Taurus into the Lind Reservoir parking lot.

"So, where exactly do these things usually live?" Cas turned toward Dave as he shut the Ford's door.

"They live in the water, but leave to feed or protect their land from intruders. Campbell Farm is the closest property, and for the serpent it was too close. They are solitary creatures, thankfully, so we will only need to slay one beast today. It is likely that it is resting now, but if the water is disturbed it will attack."

"So, what, one of us has to go splash in the water?" Bobby nodded toward the lake.

"No. I would recommend throwing something in to cause a splash. It will have the same effect without needing one of us to get too close."

"Here goes nothing." Bobby picked up a stone from the parking lot and heaved it into the water. As he did so both Cas and Dave readied their bows, with Bobby picking up his crossbow shortly after throwing the rock. At first it seemed as though the stone had no effect, the water was still and quiet. Then a large ripple appeared followed by a set of massive antler-like horns as the serpent's head appeared above the water. The beast was easily as long as a bus, and was as tall as any of the men.

"Fuck. RUN!" Bobby shouted as the three retreated to the car. The serpent hissed as it lunged at them, landing only feet from the front of the wagon.

"This is much larger than normal. I have never seen one this large." Dave said, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Cas quickly put the car in reverse and backed down the path leading to the parking lot. The serpent was close in front of them. "One of you start shooting at it. Maybe we can get lucky and hit the right stripe."

Bobby nodded in agreement, rolling down the passenger window. While most of the bolts shot to one side of the creature, a few did manage to pierce its hide. It shrieked as one pierced it's side and Cas shifted into drive, leading the thing for a chase away from town. As they sped up on the road leading away from town Dave pushed up the rear gate and he and Bobby both began firing out of the backseat.

Cas made a sharp left, to discover-to his horror-that the bridge ahead was out. "Bobby… Dave… _SHOOT_ _THAT DAMN THING_! We're almost out of road!"

Bobby reached down for another bolt to discover that he was out aside from the one he had loaded. Turning to Dave, the other man indicated he was also out. _God, please don't let me die in a damn station wagon…_ Bobby aimed the last arrow and fired, finally hitting the seventh stripe as the beast fell and Cas slammed on the brakes as the car juttered to a halt inches in front of the "Bridge Out" sign.

After taking a few deep breaths and remarking on the surprising cleanliness of their undergarments the three returned to Bobby's to get something to take the edge off their most recent life-threatening adventure. As Cas pulled a beer out of the fridge for Dave the front door opened and the boys walked in. Dean looked thoroughly pissed, having been pinched repeatedly throughout the day, while Sam and Gus were reveling in his slight discomfort.

Dean sat down at the table and tried to swipe a beer, to which Cas quickly slapped his hand. He withdrew and the others soon joined him at the table. "So, how was your day?" the freckled teen asked, hoping it would take his mind off the fact that he'd been pinched dozens of times that day.

Bobby, Cas, and Dave exchanged a glance before Bobby replied, "Surprisingly violent."


	14. A Quiet Evening

**Chapter 14: A Quiet Evening**

Dean had the flu. He had a fever, cramps, and had thrown up four times in the last two days. But as far as he had been concerned that meant nothing because tonight was Sammy's change. The semi-delirious pajama clad teen had tried to sneak out to be with Sam, but Cas had forced him to rest-which he _clearly_ needed (_Come on Cas I'm not-_Dean dry heaved-_that sick!)_. As a result, tonight was the first time in a long time that Sam was alone in the bunker. Bobby was on an emergency call fixing one of the police cars after it had smashed through a fence and ruined the radiator (_and there goes the one free night I've had in two weeks…_), Gus was at work-stuck doing a double after a coworker called out sick with the same flu Dean had contracted, and Cas was stuck taking care of Dean. Even Ava and Carol were busy-Carol was stuck visiting her grandmother in Woodburn (_where it's SOOO boring)_ and Ava was babysitting her cousins while her family got ready for her brother's wedding.

Dave had let Sam in when he rang and explained where everyone was, then excused himself, as he had to go tend to Dean as well-apparently skinwalkers could have some weird reactions to illnesses and he wanted to make sure Dean didn't freak out and hurt himself. So Sam trudged down the stairs to the basement and locked himself in the bunker, sitting as he waited for the change.

After a few excruciating seconds of his body contorting itself Sam stood up, having neatly folded his now too small clothes and placed them on the bed. _Well, thank God that's over. Even if it doesn't hurt as much anymore, it still hurts. _Sam stretched his back as he stood up and quickly threw on his oversized clothing-his sense of modesty remained, even if there was no one around to see him naked. He glanced around the small room, silently cursing that his vision sucked and that he couldn't wear contacts, so he sat on the bed and let his mind wander as he stared at the ceiling.

_I guess it's kinda ironic that both Dean and I ended up as not-quite-humans, given all the stuff our dad fought against. He'd've freaked if he found out that Dean was a skinwalker and I was a werewolf, let alone the fact that Bobby adopted a vampire. I can just imagine his face, hearing how Dean defended his "freak" brother, and how that same "freak" helped save his ass countless times. Even now with Dean as much of a "freak" as I am I bet dad still would've liked him better…_

_ I wonder what would've happened if dad hadn't died? Well, we never would've met Cas, or Gus, or anybody else here. I guess we might still know Bobby… But he probably wouldn't be as close because of all the traveling we used to do. _Sam half smirked, _"traveling". Jesus, Sam, even when you're just thinking you still defend that bastard for dragging you and Dean all over the country to hunt something that he didn't even know. Dean was ripped from a normal childhood stuck on the road, basically turned into a full-time nanny before he could count to twenty! I never even knew normal for the first four years of my life! We STILL don't know what killed mom! Probably some kind of demon, but hell if we know which one. Cas doesn't know and he was part of the force that was supposed to look after us because of our part in 'the plan'._

_'The plan'. What a load of bullshit. No way I'm going to fight Dean in some end-all-be-all apocalypse starting battle. That's insane! Dean and I wouldn't kill each other. Maybe we'd die for each other, but certainly never kill each other._ Sam paused, would he really die for Dean if he had to? The answer frightened him, but it was yes.

He shook his head and tried to think of something less depressing. _I wonder what Dean's going to end up looking like when he changes. _Sam glanced at his own furry arms and clawed hands. _I don't really look too much like me, aside from the fact that my hair is the same color. I wonder if Dean'll end up as a blonde dog? I would love if he ends up as something dopey. Like a pug, or maybe a Chihuahua… _Sam barked, imagining his tough macho-man older brother as a little yappy dog was priceless. _Maybe there is some sort of karma in this world, get him back for calling me a furry all those times._

Sam tried to take a nap, but couldn't get comfortable. It was boring being alone with nothing to do. He couldn't even try calling Carol because it would just turn out as whines and barks on the phone, though her sign language was improving it would do no help in an audio-only medium. He sighed, leaning back on the mattress. He closed his eyes and waited for morning, waiting to feel the morning rays restoring him back to his humanity.


	15. God, Why Can't I be Normal?

**Chapter 15-God, Why Can't I be Normal?**

_Deep breath in… and out… in… and out…_ Dean sat on his bed, trying to concentrate. _Or was it not to concentrate on anything at all? _Dean opened his eyes and flopped backwards. _Fuck. Why the hell can't I be normal?! _He balled his fists, trying to concentrate on changing. He'd done it a few times, but it always took a fair bit of concentration and clearing his head before he could. Dean shook his head, _now isn't right. Not that anything's ever really 'right' when it comes to a Winchester._

_I guess I've never really been completely normal-except maybe those few years before mom died. After that, everything when dad was still alive, it was about as far from normal-and okay-as it could've been. Thank God I can't remember those except for a few random things-I guess repressing your memories can be a good thing occasionally. I guess on paper I'm normal: I live with my brother and 'uncle' in a normal house, have a normal girlfriend, go to a normal school, and work a normal job on the weekends-when I'm not busy risking my ass to try and save the town and cover for my relatives not-so-human status (or my own). But despite that last bit I never figured I'd be part golden retriever! _Dean scowled. _A dopey looking golden retriever puppy. Not some badass Rottweiler, or a Doberman, or a German Shepherd, or even a Mastiff! A dopey looking absolutely unthreatening golden retriever puppy who'd be more at home on some first grade girl's Lisa Frank notebook than in a battle trying to fight off evil. Dave said as I age so will my canine form, but given how dogs age compared to people I won't be a full-grown dog until my mid-twenties! Doesn't help that Sammy keeps calling me the bitch now…_

Dean sighed, his thoughts fading as he tried again to concentrate on nothing. When that failed he decided to do something he hadn't in a long time. He blinked his eyes and looked blankly at the ceiling for a minute before he closed his eyes and rolled on his side, folding his hands.

_God, if you're there it's me, Dean…_

_Dean Winchester. The guy with the magical dog bite, the werewolf little brother who also happens to have demon blood, and the cousin who's a vampire? And whose uncle used to be an angel… **That** Dean Winchester._

_Yeah, I know it's been a while._

_I guess I don't really know what to say-I know you're supposed to be in charge of the angels, but according to Cas he never met you. Cas said that most angels never did. Honestly, though, your delegation skills suck. I get that being in charge of the universe is a lot-but could you please tell the angels to take it easy? I know I'm just some sinner, some sinner who only goes to church because he feels guilty-as-hell that he's the only person who doesn't trust you in his family. Somehow Sammy and Cas, hell even Bobby and Gus, they all believe… It makes sense that there's something good up there above the angels (which have to be real, I have proof in the bedroom next door about that)-but I honestly don't know… Sometimes I just feel like there isn't anything good, because if there was then my life wouldn't be so fucked up. The 'forces of good' hate me as much as demons do, and neither of them will chill the fuck out and just let us live without ruining every other week for us! I really don't know what to ask, but maybe if you could somehow make us normal it'd be nice._

_I know you probably think Sam's some spawn of hell because of the demon blood. You think he's on the side of hell, some harbinger of the end of days… But he's not. Sam's just a kid who wants to make the world a better place. He's not exactly Mr. Perfect, none of us are, but objectively he's not a terrible person. Hell, he'd end up with a lot more points towards good deeds than I have if you pulled out a scoreboard. As far as I can tell the only thing the demon blood does is make it so he can resist being a bloodthirsty maniac when he goes werewolf every month. _

_And why is it that he gets some change he can't control and turns into a monster, and I end up bit and can change at will into a puppy everyone fawns over in the window of PetSmart? It's not fair. Sam's the good one. As far as I can tell the kid feels so guilty about even **existing** he's muttering some confession under his breath every chance he gets. He hates the fact that he has demon blood and that he's a 'monster'. Do you have any idea the look in his eyes when he locks himself in? He must be the most self-loathing middle-schooler on the planet, and that's saying something. Yet I drink and party and have sex with my girlfriend all the time and end up with a change I can control that makes me into a sickeningly sweet blond ball of fluff?_

_I know it hurts him to change. It hurts me to change, and according to Dave it always will-though it gets easier with time. My first change took almost four minutes as I had my bones restructure and my muscles writhe as I turned into a dog. While that was happening I felt my eyes and nose break down and restructure themselves… Why would you make anyone have to change like that? Especially Sam? The poor kid has been through enough-he never met mom, dad was an absolute asshole to him, and as soon as he gets a good life with Cas he ends up being turned into some freak-not that I think he is, but how others would see him-for a week each month!_

Dean frowned, then sighed. He begrudgingly continued, trying to remember everything that Pastor Gerald said about prayer each Sunday while he was busy thinking about anything else but church.

_I guess now is the part where I'm supposed to say the stuff I'm thankful for, now that I'm done bitching about my life. Well, I'm happy that we've always lived in one place. I'm happy that Ava accepts me, and Sam, and Gus for who we are. I'm glad Cas fell and became human, that he loves us and he wants to help us, even if you do think he's an abomination now. I'm glad that Bobby is here, that Cas saved him. I'm not blessed, and I'm sure as hell not normal, but I suppose it could be worse. _

_We could still be on the road, for one._ Dean shuttered at the potential reality of still being with his father. The longer he had to reflect, the more he repressed, and the more he realized just how quickly the man had become unhinged following Mary's death.

_Please, just end the monsters and ghouls and freaks. We just want to exist. I want to have to worry about what I'm wearing to prom, and the math test next week, and how the team will do once the season starts back up. Not all of that stuff AND the constant threat of someone in my family being found out and being killed by an angry mob AND the forces of heaven and hell plotting to get Sam and I to go into some sort of fight to the death. WE DON'T WANT TO KILL EACH OTHER!_

Dean sighed as he rolled onto his back, his side stiff from lying on it.

_Well, anyway, thanks for the good stuff. And please help out and tell the angels to knock off the annoying stuff. I know I'm not Mr. Do-Good, but I'm trying. I guess I believe, and I want to be good, really. So please, do something._

Dean opened his eyes and turned to face the clock. It was getting late, and he had school in the morning. _Here's to another day without getting maimed by some creature who wants to fuck up my family… _


	16. And I Shall Wear Khakis

**Chapter 16: And I Shall Wear Khakis**

The fourteen by sixteen foot master bedroom was by no means a luxurious accommodations. It was, however, home. The wearing cream-colored carpet and light green walls were full of memories, as was every part of the Winchester home. Cas smiled as he stepped out of bed and quietly plodded down the hall towards the staircase. It was a Saturday, which meant he had three showings on top of the usual weekend workload. He pushed _that_ thought out of his head as he turned on the coffee maker and listened to the water heat and drip through the paper filter and ground coffee beans. It was oddly calming and invigorating at the same time.

As the room filled with the aroma of coffee Cas pulled out a box of cereal-cheerios-from the cabinet and poured himself a bowl. Normally he would prepare something, but with his schedule today there wasn't much time to do anything, _especially with that bitch Rubenstone constantly trying to steal my clients out from under me…_ After coffee and a light breakfast Cas walked back upstairs. Sam was getting up as Cas passed, the two nodding in the sluggish way that only winter mornings can seem to muster. Dean was still asleep, sprawled out on his mattress-half naked after a night of 'studying' with Ava, _Like I don't know what he was actually doing…_ Cas momentarily frowned, _It's Dean's right to make his own choices, and so long as it doesn't hurt anyone I shouldn't get involved… Even if I did raise him differently._

_What to wear today?_ Cas opened the closet door and looked at the dozens of semi-identical garments. Rows of slacks and khakis lined the left side, while dress shirts (nearly all white) and jackets lined the right. Along the back of the closet was a tie rack and a trench coat he rarely wore anymore, though on occasion he did don the tan coat for nostalgia's sake. Cas grabbed a white shirt, khakis, a grey suit jacket, and a blue tie; then quickly disrobed and went through his morning hygiene ritual before getting dressed. All told the process took twenty-three minutes.

Twenty six minutes later Castiel Winchester, _Number one realtor in the greater Portland suburban area,_ pulled out of the driveway of his own slice of suburban normalcy-_Just about the only normal thing in my life-_and exited the neighborhood, heading across town for a showing of a rancher with a pool (_Why someone would get a pool put in when the town pool is free is beyond me)_. It went relatively smoothly, with the exception of the husband accidentally falling into the drained pool after thinking that the pool cover would hold his weight (it did not). Mercifully, he was unharmed.

The next showing was around noon, which gave Cas just enough time to hastily grab something to eat at home and run to the old farmhouse on the northeast edge of town. The home had been empty for the better part of a decade, and showed it. While there was nothing structurally wrong with the house it needed major cosmetic work and a serious application of roundup on the poison ivy patch which had engulfed the once gorgeous back porch. Thankfully these prospective buyers were smart enough not to press their luck with the dormant appearing vine and the meeting ended with Cas calling the seller to place an offer for the newlyweds.

And the last showing of the day was the Dorchester mansion, as always. Franklin Dorchester had been a founding member of North Plains when the town was established and built his fortune in the small town's foundry. The mansion he'd built was in the center of town, across from a few other stately homes. While impeccably maintained, the house was also cursed. Apparently Franklin had hated all his heirs and decided to set up the house to be given away in a lottery in his will. He had stipulated that the winner would receive his home and its contents, and if his will was not followed that the home would be forever cursed until a suitable owner was found. However, his son conspired to rig the drawing and managed to secure the winning ticket. After he moved in the house began developing cold spots and knocking sounds were heard at night, this eventually culminated in windows shattering randomly, the fireplace suddenly igniting anything within a ten foot radius of it, and the doors locking and slamming at all hours. Within weeks he was driven out, having gone mad from the house's attacks. Ever since, any new owner experienced the same results. This was the sixteenth sale since Cas had lived in town, with each new owner trying to settle down being forced to either sell or abandon the house. Cas and Bobby had investigated the home, but there wasn't actually a ghost present. It was the manifestation of a curse that Dorchester had placed on the property-and no matter how much warding or salt the two tried, the home continued to persist in its misbehavior. The last owner had been a family from New Jersey who had refused Cas' many warnings about the home's past. The father was a skeptic, and refused to believe in the supernatural. Within two weeks he'd called the priest for an exorcism and called Bobby-having had learned about Bobby from Larry Caldwell. Both refused, having tried countless times and gotten nowhere with the house. The showing was for another out-of-town family, some lawyer and his family wanted to move after their old home had a new development built directly behind it.

Cas quickly checked over his notes as he pulled into the home's portico and shut off the car. He saw another car park across the street and a man he recognized from his earlier interactions step out, along with who he assumed were his wife and two children. Cas unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the Taurus, glancing at the long back car that the family has disembarked from. He swore it almost looked like a hearse.

"Good afternoon Mr. Addams." Cas smiled politely.

"Mr. Winchester! I'd like you to meet my family!" The man beamed.

_He certainly is jolly for a lawyer._ Cas mused, nodding politely as he introduced his wife and children.

"Now, I know I've mentioned it before, but I want to reiterate, this house is cursed. I am not lying, nor am I exaggerating. Every previous owner has lasted less than a year. Most fled in less than a month…" Cas began his prepared speech, the same one each previous owner ignored.

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Addams clapped her hands, "Dear, it is just as you said!"

"Did anyone die here?" The little girl asked, seeming oddly happy at hearing the news.

_What on earth is going on?_ "No, not since the original owner. Everyone else fled…"

She frowned, "Well, one is okay I guess…"

Forty minutes later the house was sold; and the Addams were the newest residents of 1313 Mynwent Lane. For some reason the unfinished attic seemed to be the lynchpin that sealed the deal. _They were a very strange family. Close, loving, and completely macabre. _

Cas stopped by the office and updated the Dorchester listing to be "SOLD", and made a few return calls for clients he hadn't heard from in a while. It was nearly three when he arrived home.

"Boys! I'm home!" Cas called, walking through the front door as he basked in the warmth of the air duct directly over the entry. It was one of the few absolutely perfect features in the house-and certainly an unintentional one, as theirs was the only one with the extra vent.

"Hey Cas, we're in here!" Sam called from the den.

When Cas entered the two were playing a videogame he didn't recognize, but it was clearly in the mold of the other fighting games the boys had taken an interest in. A clearly disproportionately muscular man beat up a robot as the two teens mashed the buttons on the Playstation's controllers.

"I certainly hope you didn't spend your entire day doing this…"

"No, I was working at Bobby's until around two. He called it early because he had to order in a part for a truck and everything else was finished." Dean continued pressing buttons frantically, apparently winning when Sam's character-the robot-had been defeated and he cheered, "Yeah! Three in a row!"

Sam scowled, "It's not exactly hard to win when you keep picking the best character."

"Sammy, I could be any character and still kick your ass. I'm older, and therefore better, at everything."

"Better at getting on people's nerves…" Sam rolled his eyes as the two turned to face Cas.

"So, what's the 'family bonding' for this week?" Dean intentionally used air quotes. The boys had discovered that Cas had been reading parenting books that suggested weekly family bonding activities, and while they didn't mind-_they actually enjoy spending time as a family, thank God_-they couldn't resist making fun of the somewhat corny books.

Cas smiled, "I don't believe we've ever played racquetball?"

Pumpkin Ridge Country Club was five minutes from Carol's neighborhood and the crowning jewel of the new Pumpkin Ridge Estates. Cas, being one of the two realtors for the community, had access to the newly constructed club house. The three arrived at the large building and signed in at the main desk before getting changed and meeting Bobby and Gus at one of the indoor racquetball courts.

All five looked at least slightly out of place among the other patrons, but at this point in their lives none of the family minded terribly. Cas and Sam played against Bobby and Dean, with Gus acting as a scorekeeper (he briefly subbed in, but due to his small stature could not effectively get to the ricocheting rubber ball). By the end of it everyone was exhausted and laughing hysterically.

"I can't believe it knocked your glasses off twice!" Sam nudged Dean as the two exited the club house.

"Well at least I didn't trip and face-plant on my racquet." Dean retorted, smiling.

"I would argue I had the worst of it," Cas commented, "Neither of you ran into the wall when you tried to get the ball." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, sore from the impact.

It was a bit after eleven when Cas got changed and sat on his bed. _Today was a good day. The boys seemed to like racquetball, nothing attacked the town, and the Addams seem like they might actually be able to handle the Dorchester house. _He exhaled and laid down, wincing as his body protested the excessive physical exercise from earlier. _I can't believe that a decade can change so much. I was alive for millennia and saw countless civilizations rise and fall, but in the life of a single man a decade is worth so much more. I've watched Sam and Dean become men as my own body has changed. I have felt the shift as it enters the middle of its lifespan. _Cas frowned, _What will happen when I die? To my knowledge no angel has ever fully forsaken their essence and developed a human soul. Technically I am a human, even if I do have some angelic resonance clinging to my spiritual being._ He shook his head, _No, no thoughts like that. I do not need to think about that… I have the boys and regardless of what might happen to me, both of them are happy and healthy and loved, and that's all that matters._

_Loved. Thank God for that. _Cas smiled. _Thank God I can love, truly love. Emotions are amazing, wonderful things that bring immeasurable meaning to such a short existence. I gave up eternity for them and it was the best decision I have ever made. We are a family, not by blood, but by our unbreakable love_. _I know that soon Dean will leave, and Sam will follow. I don't know where they'll end up-hopefully close-but I know that no matter how far apart we are we will be family. As we change and move we will shift, and there may be some issues because of it, but as long as we continue to have each other we can take on anything that heaven or hell can muster. _Cas smirked at his own over-sentimentality, knowing that the boys would bristle at hearing anything so sappy out-loud, Dean immediately declaring it too 'chick flick' to stand. The world was a crazy place, but with loved ones by your side it wasn't nearly as bad.


	17. Arbor Day

**Chapter 17: Arbor Day**

"Thank God it's Friday." Sam stretched as he exited the Toyota. It had been a _long_ week. Not in the usual Winchester-save the world and get home to cram assignments-way, but in a more typical teenage manner. As it was nearing the end of the school year the larger projects had begun. For Sam it also meant marching band and soccer, and for Dean baseball had to be balanced along with the mandatory volunteer hours towards graduation. _Like all the hours we've spent keeping this town from LITERALLY going to hell don't count._

"I'm just glad coach didn't force us to do more laps of the school during practice. That sucks major ass." Dean closed the car door and hefted his backpack over one shoulder.

"You'd know what that's like…" Sam smirked as Dean turned bright red. "Oh Ava… Oh… Oh!" Sam smirked as Dean's look shifted from embarrassment to wrath.

"Watch it, unless you want to find dog piss all over your backpack Monday." Dean threatened.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dude I'm just kidding, but seriously, make sure no one else is home when you two get all touchy-feely. I can only be mentally scarred so much."

Dean exhaled and made a mental note to be more cautious before he and Ava decided to do anything. He then made another mental note to piss on Sam's backpack on Tuesday, because the kid was being a bitch and he knew it.

It had been a little while since Hell and Heaven last tried to traumatize and maim the boys, so it made sense that in the stressed enough states they were in that the antagonists would again decide to make a move. All the better to force those cracks towards "the plan".

North Plains is located in a temperate north-pacific zone which is home to a variety of deciduous trees. The main varieties include oak, maple, and elm trees, with some nut-bearing trees also being moderately common. The majority of North Plains was well-planted (as part of the effort of a number of conservation groups in the area), and nearly every street was tree-lined. With it being early spring the trees were covered in tender light green leaves, and dozens of flowers littered the front beds of the homes in the small town. It was picturesque. Until one of the trees uprooted itself and began smashing its way across the front yard it was in before toppling over into the large bay window of the ranch it landed on. It then promptly got up and continued its rampage, making a large trail of debris as it smashed through the backyard and into the next block.

The teens had just shifted their backpacks off when Bobby called Sam's phone. "Boys, I think we've got another one."

"Okay Bobby, what is it? Ghosts? Wendigo? A really pissed off unicorn?" Dean replied, more than exhausted at the increasingly improbable creatures they had to fight off.

"Try a dryad."

"A what?" Sam and Dean replied in unison.

"A dryad, a tree nymph. They're usually harmless creatures that live in forests and dwell among the trees. At worst they might get a bit rowdy and scare some local wildlife if they get bored." Bobby explained.

"That doesn't sound too bad…" Sam replied, hoping that was all that was happening.

"I said usually. Remember, this is us." Bobby sighed, "These tree spirits are going nuts and trees all over the south side of town are uprooting themselves and smashing through buildings and cars. Now, thankfully these things are pretty easy to kill-just hit the tree with a silver tipped axe-but the fact that there's so many of the fuckers, that's what's the bitch of the situation."

"How many are we talking?" Dean nervously eyed the plastic receiver as Bobby exhaled.

"Round a hundred."

"One hundred?!" Sam nearly shouted. "There's a hundred trees smashing through downtown?!"

"Yup."

"Well this one's going to be hard to cover up…" Dean commented.

"You bet. But for now get over here, I've got the axes ready, now all we need is to start chopping these bastards."

Dean's batting practices had afforded him a decent swing, which when coupled with his pent-up rage and stress led to the teen easily felling nearly a dozen trees in as many minutes. Sam was also successfully attacking the lumbering monstrosities, keeping up with Dean's quick pace. Bobby and Gus were busily taking care of their own dryads, while Cas attempted to lure them from the most populated areas to the suburbs on the south side of town. Within twenty minutes there was nothing left of the attack but a series of felled trees and five exhausted men who empathized with lumberjacks more than they had that morning.

"Well, that was anti-climactic." Gus mused, kicking a maple tree that had landed on top of a minivan when it was chopped.

"Well, they're getting desperate. At this rate there aren't many creatures we haven't successfully defeated, they need to see what might work." Cas shrugged as he cracked his back and climbed down from atop a small pile of trees that he'd stabbed.

"Well, dryads weren't the right thing, clearly. Let's go home and let the insurance adjusters come up with an excuse on this one. I'm sure they'll think of something." Dean responded as the family split and Bobby and Gus went to their truck and the Winchesters to the Taurus.

As the blue Ford pulled away a woman watched, hesitantly, peering through the curtains of her dining room. When the car left she scurried to her phone and began dialing.

"Hello Sara? It's Wendy-do you know the Winchesters?"

Dean couldn't sleep for some reason-_probably that stupid side-stitch from all that running-_and ended up getting up before the rest of the family on Saturday. As he slunk downstairs to make some coffee he rubbed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. He saw something on the front porch besides the usual morning paper. He blinked and walked over, opening the door to reveal a number of small envelopes and boxes. Each one appeared to have different handwriting, with some done in neat cursive and others clearly the work of a small child. The boxes also all appeared to be from different sources, with a number of different labels.

"What the hell?" Dean exhaled as he picked up a card. It was addressed _Tank U_-clearly the work of a small child. He flipped over the envelope and opened the seal to reveal a hand-drawn picture of the events of the previous day. Five crudely drawn figures were cutting down trees. Underneath the handwriting of an adult relayed the message, "Thank you for saving us from those trees. You truly are all heroes.-The Gunderson Family"

Dean's eyes shot open. Someone saw them. Recognized them. And based on the number of gifts and well-wishing cards on the porch, they weren't alone. "FUCK!" Dean quickly gathered up the gifts and stashed them in the kitchen as he dialed Bobby.

"What the hell are you doing calling me this early? It's barely light out!" Bobby groused over the phone; clearly awaken by Dean's call.

"Bobby, I need you to check your front porch."

"Why?"

"Bobby, just please check!" Dean was frazzled.

Dean heard Bobby put the phone on the table and open the front door, "What the hell?" Bobby picked back up the phone, "Dean, I have a stack of fan-mail on my front porch."

"Fuck."

Twenty minutes later the five sat in the Winchester's living room, nursing coffees-except for Sam who had recently started drinking tea, _what a hippie._

"So… What the heck are we going to do?" Sam anxiously tapped his fingers on the arm of the sofa as he glanced at the others.

"We have to stop it. Most of the people signed their names. We could track them down, and if they refuse we could make sure they wouldn't talk." Dean suggested.

" Woah-are you seriously suggesting threatening our friends and neighbors?" Gus set down his black-as-night coffee.

"What? No. I meant bribe them, Jesus, your mind is dark." Dean immediately defended, clearly appalled by the idea of hurting people who had thought of them as heroes.

"In any case, we have to do something. Being seen as humans fending off the supernatural is one thing, but what if someone found out about how everyone except me isn't quite human…" Bobby cautioned.

"So what do we do?" Sam asked.

"For now, we wait, we say thanks, and tell them not to mention it. Say it's a secret and hope they leave it alone. It's a small town, we know them and they know us. Hopefully they can honor the fact that we've lived here for a decade and not bring out the pitchforks and torches…" Cas' grim tone undermined his attempt to joke about the very real possibility of their neighbors turning on them.

"Okay, for now we do that. And we have to be careful. We can't have the public see us again." Bobby added, the boys nodding in agreement.

"No wonder most hunters move around. The townsfolk can't recognize a pattern that way." Dean added bitterly, "But I'll be damned if you think I want to move. Maybe we can get lucky and have a gap until the next freakshow moves in. I'll have to talk to Dave about our meetings to make sure they're more private."

Bobby took a final sip of his coffee, "Good. We have a plan. Let's just pray for once heaven and hell don't dick it over."


	18. Happy Birthday Sam

**Chapter 18: Happy Birthday Sam.**

"Fifty eight. Fifty eight fucking people." Dean flung his hands in the air, a gesture of both disbelief and anger. He was pacing the Winchester home's first floor, doing a circuit between the kitchen, living room, and dining room. It had been a day since the gifts had arrived, and the family had spent their entire Saturday tracking down the senders. After knocking on a few dozen doors and pleading with as many people it had finally ended, but not really.

"Dean, come on. It isn't that bad. I've known for years and I haven't told anyone." Ava tried to calm him down, looking over the back of the sofa as Dean passed by again. She frowned, when Dean got worked up it was nearly impossible to calm him down, especially if it was about his family. Last time Sam had broken his wrist Dean was almost insufferable, constantly acting as a mother hen, even when Cas had already tended to his needs.

"Ava, you're different. For one thing you _know_ us. Most of these people barely know who we are aside from the fact that we live in town and that Cas is a realtor." Dean rumpled his shirt in his fist as he finally sat down next to Ava. "Fifty eight!"

"Dean we heard you the first time. We're all not crazy about the number being as high as it is." Sam remarked, leaning back against the armchair as he ran his hand through his hair, then paused to adjust his glasses. "But we can't change it. We talked to everyone, and basically no one objected to keeping what we do a secret. Sure we had to explain what hunters were-and they we were ones-but no one knows about our not-entirely-human situations."

Dean seemed to relax slightly at the fact that their major secret was still hidden, even if the fact that the supernatural exists-and that they hunt it-was now known among others in their town.

"Let's just take it one day at a time. I'm sure in no time everyone will just let it go." Ava leaned against Dean, putting her hand on his thigh. She leaned in to whisper, "I can think of something that might help you forget…"

Dean blushed as Sam rolled his eyes and walked to the den, "Keep it quiet enough so the neighbors don't hear. I'm pretty sure the Martins next door are tired of listening to you to go at it."

"At least I'm getting some." Dean retorted.

"Not all of us are as helplessly horny as you!" Sam called back, his eye roll somehow carrying through his words.

Monday mornings were never Dean's favorite time of week. For one thing, having to roll out of bed and get ready for the school day when the sweet sleep of the weekend had just ended seemed like some sort of cosmic joke. Granted, most of his life had been a cosmic joke-he was supposed to end up some 'vessel' for an angel to end the world-though with Monday mornings it was somehow more tangible. But he endured: shower, shave, eat, grab books, and into the car with Sammy. It was routine, and it got him through the many rainy, cold, and drab days that Oregon afforded.

Forty eight minutes after Dean smashed his alarm Sam, Dean, and Gus arrived in the back parking lot of Ford Secondary School. As Dean turned off the Toyota's engine he noticed a group of freshman turn their heads toward the sound of the beige sedan before they hurried off, seemingly excited about something. "Hey, you guys see that?"

"What?" Sam asked, looking up from rifling through his backpack trying to find his history paper.

"I'm not sure. Some freshmen were acting weird when we pulled in." Dean squinted as the cluster moved into the building, laughing about something.

"They're freshman. Weird is their prerogative." Gus remarked, exiting the backseat.

"Yeah, I guess…"

After splitting off to go to the middle school wing Sam was greeted by Carol wearing another of her Technicolor outfits. Recently she'd taken to wearing as many colors as possible when dressing. Somehow she always made it work. Today was a teal sweater and pink skirt with tye-dye canvas sneakers and a striped scrunchie. _How she always looks amazing is beyond me…_, "Hey Sam, is something going on? A bunch of the other students keep talking about you…"

Sam's brow rose, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure, I overheard Zach and a few other guys saying something about you and Dean outside, but they got quiet before I got close enough to hear what exactly they were talking about."

"Great…" Sam sighed, "Remember how I told you about those stupid evil trees on Friday?"

"Yeah. Apparently they _wooden_ leave you alone." She smirked.

Sam couldn't help but crack a smile, "Good pun, but seriously-some people saw us. And Zach wasn't one of them. Apparently the word is spreading."

Carol bit her lip and whispered, "Shit. Do they know all of it?"

"No, thank God. But still, it's not like we want everyone to know about-well, _you know_-anyway." Sam waved his arms to signify the omission of his hunter background.

The two turned a corner towards the eighth grade homeroom and stopped dead in their tracks. Sam's locker was covered in notes. Dozens of pieces of paper were taped to the red metal. Each one bore different handwriting, with some also bearing hearts. It looked like something out of a corny teen romance movie, only instead of love Sam was feeling panicked.

"Well, fuck."

Halfway across school Dean was pulling the notes off his locker and hurriedly stuffing them in his backpack before anyone else would notice. _Shit. Shit. Shit! It was supposed to only be fifty eight, who the fuck-all knows now?!_ Dean stuffed another piece of paper-this one clearly intended as a love note given the hearts covering the page, _from Reggie Anderson?!_ -into his bag as the first bell rang. _Fuck that. These are all coming down._

Dean sat down a few minutes later in homeroom. Ava glanced at him and Gus. The two were clearly even more uncomfortable than she was. Being a secret keeper was one thing, but having your secret exposed was much worse. Gus was attempting to avoid eye contact with the other students around him, his nose buried in his math book as he mumbled something in Latin-from what Ava heard she was guessing it had something to do with invisibility. Ava shot Dean a worried but hopeful look that _maybe this will all just pass?_ Dean doubted it. High schoolers were tremendous at two things: spreading rumors and never letting someone live down their reputation.

Homeroom was mercifully brief, but as the day wore on it became obvious that nearly everyone knew. By the time science started both Sam and Dean were on edge. "Today we are going to continue our study of exothermic and endothermic reactions by mixing the two solutions on your tables. Please follow the instructions carefully, and be sure to stand back once you reach step five. The release of heat can burn. Though I'm sure some of us have dealt with things far more dangerous than a few beakers of liquid…" Mr. Watson smiled at the two brothers seated at the back table.

Sam and Dean froze as everyone turned to face them.

_Should we make a run for it?_ Sam signed.

_Maybe. But that would also be a dead giveaway. _

_Okay, but we should say something. Everyone's staring and it's really awkward in here._

Dean cleared his throat, and turned to the direction sheet, ignoring everyone's looks. "Sam, can you hand me a pipette and an empty beaker?"

Gus wasn't having a much better time. After being swarmed during math with a dozen different notes smacking him on the side of his head and the cafeteria lady commenting, "And an extra scoop for heroics…" while giving him mashed potatoes at lunch he was frazzled.

"Get it together, Singer. Get it together." He glared at himself in the mirror. He exhaled and stretched his back. _I can do this. Just two more hours until school lets out, then maybe I can change my name and get dad to let me hide in Alaska for eternity… _He wished he was a vampire like in the movies, then he could just turn into a bat and hide somewhere for a century until this all blew over.

The two hours passed painfully slowly and Dean and Gus nearly sprinted to the Toyota when the final bell rung. Sam was already there when they arrived, having ducked out of soccer practice that afternoon in order to get home early. Dean peeled out of the parking lot as the small Japanese-engineered engine reached its top speed of 108, Dean running every stop sign between school and their street until they parked in the Winchester driveway.

After hastily slamming the front door Dean crumpled onto the floor, exhausted. Cas poked his head down from upstairs upon hearing the noise, "I'm going to guess you also discovered that people in this town aren't very good at keeping secrets."

"That about sums it up." Sam opened his backpack and dumped out the notes from his locker to demonstrate his agreeance.

"After Linda commented that I must be stronger than I look I began to get suspicious." Cas descended the stairs, "But when even that bitch Betsy Rubenstone called to tell me she was impressed, I couldn't manage."

"What the hell are we going to do?! Almost everyone in town knows!" Gus drew the shades as he sat down in the living room.

"We try to wait it out. Hopefully it will stop spreading." Cas sat down, "Hopefully."

It did not. Sam's birthday was Friday, and never before had he dreaded the day. Normally Cas would take the three of them out to eat and they would see a movie or do something else to enjoy the evening. This year though, Sam was way too stressed to even consider what he wanted to do. Everyone was on edge as it seemed like the entire town had found out, and Sam was just waiting for the other shoe to drop and someone to try and force them out of town, Dean was trying to keep his family safe by any means necessary, and Cas, Bobby, and Gus tried to ignore it and hope things would improve. School had been torture, having to tiptoe around the elephant in the room as people started becoming more forthright with their comments. That coupled with the fact that everywhere Sam went there was some random electrical failure didn't help. So far nearly a dozen bulbs had blown at school, and at least two slide projectors had overheated and caught on fire.

The schoolyard was too empty when the trio arrived on Friday. Instead of the usual clusters of students and faculty enjoying the spring weather there was nothing but grass and trees.

"Is today an in-service day?" Gus asked, glancing at the empty expanse between them and the brick building.

"No. But something's clearly up. Sam, you're staying with us." Dean stood in front of his big-little brother and the three walked into the building's middle school entrance. Dean was on DEFCON-1 as he led the group across the expanse of white linoleum. The hallways were eerily silent, and every class was empty. The lights flickered as Sam stared nervously ahead; the once comforting sight of a familiar hallway was replaced with anticipation of something going VERY wrong.

The three turned the corner towards Sam's homeroom and were greeted with a cheer. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!"

Sam took a half step back, startled, as the lights above exploded into a shower of sparks. Glass from the fluorescent tubes tinkled as it hit the floor. The mob screamed as Dean protectively stood in front of his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Everybody get back!"

The noise drew attention as a voice rang out, "Winchester, what on earth is going on?" Principal Dawkins asked, appearing from his office at the end of the hall.

Sam's face twitched before he pushed Dean aside and yelled, "That's it! I've had fucking enough!" Sam shouted, uncaring of the possible consequences, "You people are driving us nuts! In case you don't know, Dean, Gus, me, and our dads are hunters. We kick evil's ass and make sure that all the bullshit that keeps trying to destroy this town fails. We've been doing it for years, and now that everyone knows it's fucking exhausting! Don't get me wrong, I like people liking me. But for God's sake, please stop hinting at it, just say, 'thanks', and be done! We don't want attention! We just do it because we know how to and we have been for as long as we can remember, so for FUCKING ONCE please just let something go and let us live like we did before. If you want to ask us about it, that's fine. If you want to say thanks or even 'fuck you' for something, that's fine too. But stop bringing it up in this cryptic bullshit way! Enough is enough!" Sam was trembling as he spoke the last sentence, the lights in a nearby class having popped with the rant.

"Yeah. Basically what he said, but I'm still game for free stuff." Gus added, pointing at his cousin.

By the end of the day school was back to the way it had been before everything went sideways. Only, now there was a group of hunter-wannabees at school. Apparently the idea of routinely risking your life to anonymously save people was somehow appealing to some of the less socially graceful members of Ford Secondary. As Dean arrived at his car he was greeted by seven of these individuals. Gus was still inside using his hero card to fill up his calendar with dates and parties for the foreseeable future and Sam was stuck doing laps at soccer practice, _I don't care if it is your birthday and you do routinely save the town. NO ONE skips practice without a valid excuse, Winchester!_ So, today Dean was stuck waiting with the unforeseen company.

"Hey." Dean waved at the small group standing near his car.

"Uh, hi." A girl wearing headgear responded, apparently chosen as the speaker by virtue of being pushed forward.

"So, what's up? Want an autograph or something now that everyone knows?" Dean half-joked, as he had legitimately been asked to sign a few that day.

The girl blushed, "No… Well… I…"

A heavy-set boy behind her spoke up, "We want to be hunters."

Dean tilted his head in near disbelief, "No you don't."

An Indian boy wearing a blue striped shirt replied, "We do!"

"You want to wake up every morning knowing it could be your last. You want to fight creatures drawn from the literal depths of hell. Things so horrible that regular people think they have to be fictional because no fair god would condone their existence. You want to risk everything because you know its right and never get credit." Dean paused, "_Because normally hunters don't get credit. _ The supernatural is not generally accepted, and the people we help normally don't blab because others would think they're nuts. You want to fight and fail, watch people die because you didn't get there fast enough, constantly risking the death of innocents if you don't win. You want to end up as a nomad. Most hunters don't have day jobs. North Plains is a supernatural hot-spot, but most hunters end up traveling the country-or at least a few states-looking for their next hunt. It's a long and thankless job. I was born into it, and even with my slice of apple pie life I have a scoop of bat-shit crazy to deal with. Believe me; none of you want to deal with it."

From the back of the group a boy spoke, his wheelchair gliding across the asphalt as he stopped directly in front of Dean. "I have been fighting my entire life. We all have. I don't battle evil like you do, but I want to fight for something with meaning instead of just fighting to not get the shit beaten out of me. I know I can't take on monsters, but I can at least learn about how to keep others safe and pass the knowledge on. All of us have had shitty lives. Angela's parents divorced and her Dad wanted custody of the dog more than her. Raj has been stuffed in lockers and shoved down stairs so often he wears padded undershirts to stop the bruising. Kevin's got diabetes and asthma and a brother who won't stop beating the shit out of him for it. Lauren used to cut herself until we intervened. And I'm stuck in a wheelchair in a town designed well before the ADA became a thing. We're outcasts, losers, the fringe of society in a small town like this. All of us are fighters, in our own ways. We have nothing to lose. We want to do something worthwhile, and none of us really care about getting attention-if we did we'd try to be 'normal'. At least talk to us about it, if you aren't afraid of your status being knocked down a peg by being seen with a bunch of underclassmen rejects." The last sentence was added with an intentional barb. Dean was relatively popular. He was handsome, athletic, and had a girlfriend. None of them had any of those things.

"You're the first person to stand up to me outside my family who I don't want to deck. You've got balls, kid." Dean admitted, then returned to his more stoic nature, "None of you are hunters, to be clear. If you want to see why I warned you, fine. I'll introduce you to Bobby and we can talk about the messed up shit that's out there. But _NONE_ of what we say there is to be repeated to anyone or I will make sure you regret it."

The group nodded.

"Good. I'll talk and we can set up a date. For now, it's my brother Sammy's birthday and I have to go rescue him from a soccer coach with a vendetta…"


	19. Training

**Chapter 19: Training**

After the school went back to normal Sam was _finally_ able to enjoy his birthday. The Winchesters celebrated as they normally did. First the trio went to see "Austin Powers"-_Wow Dean, there's someone in existence who actually has a stronger libido than you do!-Yeah Sammy, and almost as much chest hair as you._ Then they enjoyed a dinner at the Outback. It was certainly pleasant to not have the pressure and stress of the secret, given that they had given up attempting to keep it as a secret. That being said, giving the okay for townsfolk to approach them about it led to the unfortunate effect of random people barging in on their conversation to thank them and ask them questions. It was annoying, but it was a whole helluva lot less nerve-wracking realizing that they were liked instead of in danger because of their vigilantism against the frequent attacks on the town.

Bobby had agreed to meet with the five underclassmen the next morning, and Dean had called them to inform them of the location and time of their first meeting. Saturday May 3rd, 1997 was not a particularly unique day in any capacity. It was moderately warm-average for spring in North Plains-and partly cloudy. The green grass was still relatively new, but a darker emerald was beginning to appear as time shifted the new shoots towards summer. It was a pleasant Saturday morning. At 8:42 am Dean arrived at Bobby's. He had told the others that they had to get there by nine, so he figured he had left himself enough time to beat them all there. He was mistaken.

When Dean parked his car in the driveway he noticed another vehicle parked at the curb. The Navy Intrepid turned out to belong to Angela-the girl with headgear-she had arrived along with Raj and Kevin a few minutes earlier. The three of them were seated on the couch on the living room chatting with Gus. While Gus wasn't unpopular, he also wasn't popular. To be honest it was somewhat difficult to place where he fell in the social order. Unlike Sam and Dean he didn't play sports, but he was funny enough and good enough at parties that he could manage to hang out with the cooler crowd. But due to his physical appearance and his open enthusiasm for role playing games (which even Sam didn't touch) he also was often lumped in with the nerds. It was because of this weird status that it seemed that Gus was always comfortable talking to people, and this was no exception.

"Really, you managed to beat Doom in one go?" He raised an eyebrow at the heavier-set boy on the couch.

"Yup. It took two days and enough coffee to make Seattle look like London, but I did it." Kevin replied.

"I can confirm, I made the mistake of checking in on him while it was going on." Angela shuttered.

"Oh, come on. It wasn't that gross."

"Dude, you were wearing an adult diaper and chugging a thermos the size of a lava lamp!"

Dean frowned for a moment as he attempted to wipe _that_ mental image from his mind, then sat down. "Once everyone gets here we can start. Did you guys bring anything to write with?" He had instructed them to bring journals to take notes.

"Yeah, I got mine." Raj held up a blue notebook. Angela and Kevin also held up notebooks of their own.

"Good. Because as much as kicking evil's ass involves kicking ass, it also involves knowing _how_ to kick that ass."

By nine everyone had arrived and Dean shooed Gus out of the room-_Either help me or stop being a distraction, this isn't a social club!_ Bobby walked in and began by handing out forms to each of the five guests. "This is a non-disclosure agreement, or NDA. Sign it and you get to learn about all the freaky shit we mess with, but you can't talk about specific examples or reveal personal information about any of us. We have secrets and we prefer to keep them that way. The fact that any of you idjits are here right now is because we failed to keep one. This time we're making sure no one else knows what we don't want them to. Got it?"

Five heads nodded as the younger teens signed.

"Awesome. Now we can get started." Dean smirked as Bobby collected the pages. "So, now that you're all bound to silence, let's start with the basics. I've been fighting baddies for nearly a decade; Bobby has been much longer than that. Have any of you ever heard the expression 'you die a hero or live to become a villain'?"

Matt shrugged in his wheelchair, the others reciprocated similar agreement.

"Well, the same goes for hunting, except replace 'villain' with 'monster'." Dean shifted into a dog in front of them, the clothes falling off the teen's six foot two frame and landing on the floor as a fluffy golden-retriever appeared. Dean intentionally played up the cute act for a minute as the five stared dumbfounded. He barked twice to Bobby (a signal he'd planned beforehand) and was covered with a sheet so he had some trace of modesty as he slipped into his boxers.

"What the fuck?!" Lauren stated, blinking to make sure she had seen correctly what had happened.

Dean emerged, slipping his shirt on as he did so. "Yeah. And Sam's a werewolf, and Gus-_who I know is eavesdropping in the dining room_-is a vampire."

Gus emerged, irritated at so easily having been found out and obliged by quickly descending and ascending his fangs, "Jerk."

"You know it, bitch." Dean winked at his cousin, who rolled his eyes and actually left this time.

"Wait-so the guys protecting this town _from_ monsters _are_ monsters?" Kevin said, confusion evident in his squint.

"Well, we all started out human. Cas is the only one who ended up human later on."

"Cas-your uncle, the realtor." Raj confirmed.

"And former angel."

"Wait-so heaven and hell are real?" Angie commented, suddenly much more nervous.

"Yup." Dean nodded, "But according to Cas the whole religion thing is a bit of a tossup. Doesn't matter which one, as long as you follow the one you believe in."

"What if you don't believe?" Angie scratched her shoulder.

"Hell? I'm not sure. Cas wasn't one of those angels." Dean shrugged. "But enough existential crisis and panic over the fact that your protectors are also the same kind of thing that actively tries to destroy the town. Let's repress all that and get started on the basics. Bobby-that's all you."

Four hours and twenty-odd pages of paper later the five students had covered the usefulness of salt and iron, what was affected by silver, and how to exorcise a demon as well as a handful of other garden-variety ghouls and beasts.

"Alright, so that finishes up about all the time we have for today. Bobby's busy during most weeknights, but Cas, Sammy, and I will be hosting Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays. You all know our address, right?" Dean began erasing the chalkboard explaining the different types of defenses against ghouls.

"What time are the meetings after school?" Matt asked.

"I guess around four. I asked Cas and he said whenever was fine, so long as you didn't mind staying for dinner afterward." _I swear Cas, you always have to be hospitable…_

After the guests had left Dean walked out back to greet Dave. He'd been outside most of the morning in the shop. Bobby had officially hired him as the shop's secretary recently, making the skinwalker further integrated into the quilt of crazy that was the Singer and Winchester families. Dave and Dean always had Saturday afternoons off to train, and today was no different.

"Dave, as much as I love yoga-"_which isn't at all, "-_could we maybe take it down a notch?" Dean tried reaching his arm behind his left leg as he bent over. He was sure at this point that Gus had enough blackmail of him in compromising positions such as this to make a scrapbook, but he'd given up caring.

"Dean you need to practice to strengthen your mind and body." The sage man responded, remaining as calm as ever.

"Couldn't I just do a bunch of laps and lift weights? That's what we do at school for any of the sports teams." _Because if coach tried to get any of the football players to do this they'd riot._

Dave opened his eyes and looked at Dean, the piercing brown circles directly focused on Dean's green. "I understand that you do not like yoga. You find it taxing. The point is to train your body to calm down, lower the heart rate and build inner strength. Weights build outer strength, but yoga and meditation help create inner strength which can ease your transitions and help you unlock further abilities."

"Further abilities?" Dean tilted his head-a physical tick that carried over from his puppy form to his human one.

"Well, for one, there is the ability to communicate with animals even when human."

Dean blinked twice. "Wait. Are you telling me you're Dr. Dolittle?"

"Well, I'm not a vet, but I suppose the reference is apt enough."

_Holy shit! I'm going to have real-life superpowers! Well, beyond the changing into a dog thing. Because that's kinda lame until I end up as a full-grown dog._

"And before you ask how long it takes to get to that point, or if there is some shortcut, no. It took you almost a month to change the first time. As you have practiced the transition I've noticed it has been getting quicker and easier. Am I right?"

"Yeah. It doesn't suck as much, but it still fucking hurts." Dean recalled that morning's change.

"It always will. But with practice you get better. Just concentrate and trust me. With time you will be able to do far more than you ever considered before."

"High knees!" The whistle tweeted as Sam sprinted across the field hitting his knees against his outstretched arms. North Plains, for the first time in its existence, had a high school team that was going to states. As a result the soccer team was being drilled constantly to get the members into the best shape possible before their next match.

Sam normally loved soccer. It was exhilarating, the rush of wind as he ran to get the ball, the frenetic movement, the constant music of dribbling the ball and the other players' shouts-it was the best thing in the world, or nearly. _The best thing was being around Carol_, but even he wasn't sentimental to admit that chick-flick moment. Dean would probably gag.

Training was something Sam knew from a young age. Dean had been trained by their father before he died, but Sam was too young then. Cas had been forced to train Sam after the bite, how to avoid silver, how to stay calm when it was close to his change, and how to make plausible excuses (though Dean helped mainly with the last two). Later he started training with weapons and self-defense when it became apparent that the supernatural intended to fuck over every aspect of their lives, constantly barging into the boys' attempts at normalcy. But even with that, thank God that things were still mostly normal. Sam couldn't imagine what life would've been like if he was still living with his father.

The whistle tweeted a final time, meaning that the group would huddle and do a closing. _Finally!_ Tomorrow was Sunday, hopefully everything would just stay normal for once.


	20. Yet Another Sunday

**Chapter 20: Yet another Sunday**

_"Mmm bop, ba duba dop  
ba du bop, ba duba dop  
ba du bop, ba duba dop  
ba du…"_

Sam slid his alarm off as he groggily looked out the window. It was another beautiful spring morning as the sun was rising above North Plains. He put on his glasses as he looked out the window. Next door Mr. Martin was just starting up his mower for the first cut of the season, the red monstrosity nosily sputtering to life. Sam stretched as he went into the hall, walking past Dean's open door.

"Hey, you seen my green shirt? I can't find it anywhere." Dean turned to Sam as he closed his closet door.

"No clue. Maybe you left it at Ava's…" Sam smirked as Dean scowled.

"Just for that I call dibs on the bathroom first." Dean leaned against the doorframe.

"You can't call dibs on the bathroom." Sam crossed his arms.

"Watch me." Dean challenged, standing upright. He quickly pushed Sam out of the way and ran down the hall, grabbing the bathroom door and flinging it open.

"Come on!"

"No way slowpoke! Better luck next ti-" Dean's smirk turned into a look of horror as he slipped on a puddle of water and soapsuds. Time seemed to slow down for the two of them as Dean's six foot two frame suddenly became vertical, his head smashing through the glass shower door as he fell.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted, running toward his brother, who was writhing in pain as he started coughing up blood. "Dean! Stay with me! Cas! Cas! Call an ambulance!" Dean's body suddenly fell limp and Sam knew he had died.

***TWO***

"_And I don't even care to shake these zipper blues  
And we don't know just where our bones will rest  
To dust I guess  
Forgotten and absorbed into the earth below"_

Dean smashed the alarm as he groaned. He had a serious case of déjà vu. Some crazy nightmare about falling through the shower. He scratched his neck as he sat up, squinting as he felt around for his glasses. Once he grabbed them he walked over to the closet and started grabbing an outfit for church. Dean owned enough decent clothes for a handful of church outfits, but it was always difficult to remember which one he was at in his rotation. _I wore the red one last week, and the blue striped one the week before, so I guess it's the green one. _As he slid the hangers around he heard Sammy's alarm go off. Instead of the usual quiet plodding to the bathroom it sounded as if Sam was sprinting into his room.

"Dean!" His brother looked like he was about to collapse, Sammy was clearly terrified of something.

"Sammy? What's going on, you look like warmed over shit."

Before he got a response Sam ran and hugged him tightly. "Thank God you aren't dead!"

"Yeah… Carpe Diem and whatnot." Dean wriggled from Sam's surprisingly strong grasp.

"No. Not like that. I saw you die, Dean. You fell into the shower door and bled out in our bathroom."

It felt as if the air was suddenly sucked out of the room as Dean's dream suddenly became far too vivid to be a dream. He remembered falling backward and landing on the glass, the pain of it piercing his chest, his lungs filling with blood as he choked. Dean paled, "I did… Sammy, what the fuck is going on?"

"I don't know, but we need to keep you safe. Let me get my jacket, then we're going to Bobby's."

"Okay, I'll tell Cas." Dean nodded his head as he threw on a pair of sneakers and jeans and walked down the stairs. Cas was in the middle of making breakfast.

"Hey Cas. Do you feel like you're having déjà vu right now?" Dean bit his lip, hoping that everyone was reliving the last few minutes, not just him and Sammy.

"Not really. But to be honest when you're a few millennia old everything feels familiar enough." Cas tried to flip a pancake, only to have it stick to the pan. He frowned and attempted to unstick the pancake, only for it to fold over on itself.

Dean frowned, _What the hell? Can only Sammy and I remember what just happened?_, "Back in a minute, I'm gonna grab Sam."

"Okay. Tell him breakfast should be done in a few." Cas nodded as Dean walked back upstairs.

As Dean climbed the stairs he tried to mull over what was going on, but decided instead to share with Sam before he did anything. He crossed from the polished wood stairs to the tan carpeting of the upstairs hallway, glancing around for other potential causes of injury-_like that giant fucking painting we have hanging in the hall-_before he pushed open Sam's door. "Hey Sammy, I just talked to Cas and-" Dean went silent as he saw Sam.

Sam was struggling with the pull-cord for the light in his closet. Somehow the line had gotten wrapped around his neck. Dean ran over to try to untangle his brother, but by the time he reached him Sam was already turning blue. He flicked out his pocket knife and quickly cut the cord. It was too late, Sam collapsed to the ground, eyes bloodshot and throat red from the cord. Dean knelt beside him and tried to begin CPR, but as he leaned in to take the first breath everything faded to white.

***THREE***

Sam woke up screaming. He didn't even bother with the alarm clock as he ran into Dean's bedroom. Dean was also visibly freaked out, the recent death of his brother still on his mind as he saw Sam enter his bedroom. _Fuck chick-flick moments._ Dean grabbed Sam and lifted him off the ground, "Sammy, oh thank fucking God. Don't you die on me! Ever!" Dean released the hug and looked his brother in the eye. Dean wasn't crying, but he was pretty damn close. "We are sticking together. We will survive this. We call Bobby and explain what's going on. He has to know what to do."

Sam nodded, mutely. He could still feel the cord wrapped around his neck, his throat slowly closing as his body spasmed, screaming for air. "Yeah… Bobby has to know."

The two carefully walked down the stairs, being sure to avoid any heavy or sharp looking decorations. Cas enforced a strict no-cell use in the house rule, it kept their bill down, so they would have to grab one from the living room or use the kitchen phone. As the two entered downstairs Cas was again in the kitchen, preparing pancakes. He flipped one, only to have it fold on itself. "Shoot."

"Morning Cas." Sam nodded as Cas turned to face them.

"Morning boys, didn't expect you down so early. Pancakes should be ready in a few."

"That's alright. I need to make a phone call first." Dean pointed to the wireless set in the kitchen.

"Sure thing, who're you calling?" Cas flipped another pancake, this one landing successfully.

"Bobby. Just wanted to ask him something." Dean grabbed the handset.

"Okay. Just remember to get ready. We're leaving in a bit."

"Will do." Dean grabbed the phone and quickly dialed Bobby.

The phone rang briefly before it picked up on the other end, "Hello?"

"Hey Bobby, its Dean."

"Morning Dean, what's the emergency this time?"

Dean sighed, Bobby always knew when it was an emergency-which was about as often as not recently. "Time loop. Sam and I are waking up in the same day over and over. No one else realizes it."

"How long has it been going on?" Bobby immediately started rifling through a pile of paper.

"This is the third time."

"So what, you live the whole day, fall asleep, and it resets? Like Groundhog Day?"

"Not quite…" Dean nervously eyed Sam, who was doing his best not to put himself in inadvertent danger.

Bobby's tone shifted, "What's resetting it?"

"One of us dies, then it resets."

Bobby was silent for a minute. "Are you sure it's a loop and not some weird premonition or dream thing?"

"Bobby I was impaled in my shower. Sam strangled on a lamp cord. I know what it feels like to bleed out now."

"Holy shit." Bobby exhaled, "Well, it could be a few things, best bet would be either an angel or some sort of charm. Either way there's some sort of tangible-" Bobby was cut off as Sam suddenly collapsed in the kitchen. The coffee pot he was holding hit the floor as a puddle of the brown liquid shorted out the socket and sent 110 volts directly into Sam's heart, causing him to fall over, dead.

***FOUR***

"No coffee this time!" Dean glared at Sam as he redialed Bobby.

"Well, fuck." Bobby replied to Dean's condensed explanation. "You need to find a totem. It's something that allows the loop to exist. Most of the time they're pretty big and conspicuous. Look for a glowing ball."

"Thanks Bobby. We're going to start looking." Dean threw on his jacket as Bobby quickly spoke.

"No you idjit! Stay safe and one of us-" Dean hung up as Sam opened the front door. They carefully walked across the lawn, avoiding the sprinklers and the suspicious looking tree branch as they entered the Toyota.

"Alright girl, let's find that orb!" Dean tapped the wheel twice as Sam sat down in the passenger seat. Apparently the movement was too much for the car, with the airbag deploying.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, watching the airbag deflate. He immediately felt nauseous as he saw Dean's neck twisted sideways, clearly broken from the force of the malfunctioning device. As he leaned over to wretch everything faded.

***FIVE***

"And no car." Dean agreed, rubbing his neck, carefully admiring his intact spine in the mirror as the two walked toward the front door.

"Where do you two think you're going?" Cas stood in front of the door.

"Uh… Bobby's?" Dean replied.

Cas raised an eyebrow. "You can go after church. Seeing as there's nothing attacking the town, you are not missing another service."

Dean nervously exchanged a glance with Sam as the two both walked upstairs. After an excruciatingly slow twenty minutes of co-bathing and dressing they appeared downstairs, ate, then got into the Taurus. Mercifully its airbag did not deploy and the three arrived in church without any issues.

"Hey Cas, can I have a word?" Pastor Gerald flagged down Cas as soon as they entered, leaving just Sam and Dean standing in the entry.

"Maybe we'll get lucky. I doubt an angel would want to cause death in a church. It's sacrilegious, right?" Sam half-smiled, hopefully. As soon as he spoke a creaking noise was heard as Dean looked up.

"Nope." He stated, not even bothering to flinch as the massive chandelier from the entry fell the thirty feet from the roof to impale and crush the two teens.

***SIX***

As it turned out Cas was surprisingly perceptive, and it was nearly impossible for Sam and Dean to escape in a way which wouldn't have them certainly die trying, even if they knew it was safe normally. So they worked together to survive the early morning and car ride to church. Cas walked over to the pastor while Sam and Dean both hurried into the sanctuary, far away from lighting fixtures.

"Okay, nothing can collapse to kill us. There's no fans or wires, there isn't anything heavy or sharp, and this building has a slab foundation so the floor won't collapse and kill us." Dean appraised their seats and relaxed a hair, still visibly tense from his recent death _at the hands of a fucking lighting fixture_.

"Maybe we can sneak out and look for the orb. Cas is busy." Sam nodded toward Cas, who was busy chatting with the pastor in the back of the sanctuary next to the communion plates.

"Worth a shot." Dean stood up and began to walk toward the aisle when a bible suddenly fell from the balcony above, landing directly in front of him. "Well, that was close."

As if on cue a box full of bibles fell over the railing and landed on Dean's head, causing a brief bloody mess and Sam's continued emotional distress.

***SEVEN***

Dean knocked on the stall door, "Sam? Come on man, did you fall in… Oh, come the fuck on!"

***EIGHT***

"Okay, we're through the service, maybe we can look for-"

"Sammy!"

***NINE***

"How the hell do you drown in a toilet then get flattened by a Buick?!" Dean was on edge; they had survived church and had arrived at Bobby's. They had never gotten this far in the day, and everything was looking dangerous.

"The same way you got impaled by a shower door. Accidentally." Sam irritably replied, rubbing his temples. The stress was one thing, but having to deal with it and the recent deaths of himself and Dean was taking a serious toll on his mind. He sighed as he tried to clear his mind and warily eyed the room around them. Gus was upstairs in his room grabbing something, and Cas and Bobby were chatting in the dining room, which meant the brothers were sitting at the kitchen table trying to figure out what their next move was.

"Look. I'm not just going to sit here, everyone's busy, let's sneak out and find this fucking thing and stop dying!" Dean slid his chair back, only to have a leg detach and send him flying into the stove.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, leaping forward toward his brother. He was too late, however, as Dean had already burned himself on the stove.

"Shit!" Dean had a hand over the left side of his face, his skin bright red and blistering as the burner had marred his complexion.

"Stay still, I'll get a cold rag." Sam turned on the faucet, only to have no response. He tapped the brass knob with his finger but the tap remained dry. Sam turned toward the fridge to grab some ice, only to slip. The pipe beneath the sink had failed, leading to a puddle directly under him. As he fell back into the already injured Dean, Dean failed to brace himself and ended up falling face-first into the dish rack.

What followed was best described as horrific as Dean realized that a fork was now lodged in his already injured eye. As he frantically stood up-cursing a string of profanities the like of which he never had before- he too slipped on the puddle, but went forward through the bay window and landed in the bush in the backyard, the fork having completed its gruesome task.

***TEN***

"Well, now I have a new worst fear." Dean shivered as he looked at his eye in the mirror. The emerald circle stared back at him as he attempted to forget the pain and fear he had experienced.

Sam sat on Dean's bed. It was before church. "What the hell are we going to do? Every time we try to get out and find the thing one of us dies."

Dean's brow furrowed, "Every time we try. That's it!" Dean quickly turned from the mirror. "What if we got someone else to find it and destroy it while we hunker down and try not to die?"

"Okay, but who? Cas doesn't think anything's going on. Last time we tried to explain it to him he thought it was an excuse to get out of church." Sam replied, folding his hands.

"Bobby?"

"He does know about the orbs, and it would make sense that he could find it."

"Worth a shot."

"Boys, you have to understand that these orbs haven't been seen in centuries. I have no idea what they look like; let alone where it might be." Bobby sighed, "But given what's been going on, I get why you're desperate to get it over with. Let me talk to Cas."

Cas believed Bobby, and as such, placed the boys under strict house arrest in the master bedroom. "I have food, water, and lavatory facilities. Stay perfectly still and DO NOT go anywhere." He ordered, terrified of the idea that his boys had been dying without him realizing.

Cas turned to wish them goodbye, but as he turned he clipped the table in the upstairs hallway which caused the hall painting to become unhung and fall, smashing over Cas with a rain of glass and canvas. This caused him to stagger and lean against the banister, which collapsed, sending the former angel down the twelve feet to his final resting place.

"CAS!" both brothers shouted in unison as they ran out to the ledge. Looking down they saw that he was a broken hull, surrounded by a pool of blood on the entry floor.

"No way." Dean leaned over and fell head first onto the floor, seeing a flash of white as Sam screamed above.

***ELEVEN***

"So, I guess no outside help." Sam commented, dourly.

"Unless we want them to die as well." Dean looked up, eyes bloodshot.

"Sammy, I'm fucking tired of dying. We need to get that orb."

"Agreed."

Fifteen minutes later the two were walking cautiously through town, backs to each other as they scanned the scenery for anything out of place shaped like a sphere.

"So if this thing is just localized, it has to be somewhere in town, right?" Dean asked, glancing through a back gate at another ordinary suburban backyard.

"I guess. But even with a town that's smaller than a square mile, we still have a lot to search…"

"Well, let's get to it." Dean slung his backpack over his shoulder as he turned the corner to Walnut Lane. His stride remained confident as he set himself to search every inch of the town, until the antennae fell off the Kaplin's roof and impaled him through the skull, leaving the teen twitching as he collapsed dead.

***THIRTEEN***

"Good boy… Please stay back…" Sam gulped as he backed against the wooden fence as the large grey dog charged.

***TWENTY-ONE***

"It's a library. What could possibly happen?" Dean said, jimmying the front door. He stepped inside, scanning the room. "Perfectly safe. Now come-"

Sam vomited as he looked away from Dean's remains. How that bookshelf had managed to bifurcate Dean was a mystery he never wanted to know the answer to.

***THIRTY-FOUR***

"Well, it's not like it matters anyway." Sam sighed as he let go of the ledge, falling into the sinkhole.

***FIFTY-SIX***

"Oh no." Sam winced and Dean shielded his face. The lava lamp was glowing much brighter than it should have been, and the cracking sounds were not a good sign.

***ONE HUNDRED FIVE?***

"I give up. We've searched everywhere and there's no sign of an orb. We're screwed. We are going to keep dying for the rest of our lives!" Sam flopped against the mattress, narrowly avoiding the coil that always popped up to stab him.

"I don't know what to do. We've died so many times I'm almost okay with getting shoved into a wood chipper or blown up by a faulty transformer." Dean lamented, referencing his seventeenth and fiftieth deaths.

"Who haven't we tried asked about the orb, but forbid from helping?" Sam pulled out a sheet of paper. Between the various searching days the two had been researching the orb and had determined that as long as someone was not the target they would remain safe, provided they did not want to harm the orb, then they too would become a target.

"We've asked Bobby, Cas, Dave, Ava, Carol, Sam Kennedy, all the kids I'm training, and Zach." Dean listed, sitting on the one chair that hadn't tried to break and cause him to land on something sharp.

"Wait, did we seriously forget Gus?" Sam looked up from the list.

"I guess we did. I'll call him; you get ready with the extinguisher." Dean picked up the cordless phone from the kitchen and walked into the backyard. As soon as he punched the last number the stove exploded, leaving the kitchen ablaze as Sam sighed and started putting out the fire.

Gus was easily enough convinced, but convincing him not to go after the thing was nearly impossible, "So, you want me to do what exactly? If I can't go after it, what am I supposed to do?"

"Just call us if you notice anything odd that's also spherical. As long as you aren't seeking it out to destroy it you'll be safe." Dean replied, angrily swatting at a bee.

"Okay…" Gus said, hanging up.

Dean clicked off the phone, looking up at the beehive and sighing. _This is gonna suck._

***ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN?***

Gus dodged another tree branch as he forced his ten-year-old frame up the fountain. In the distance the storm sirens blared as the sky grew dark and a funnel cloud started to touch down outside of town. _A fucking TORNADO, really?!_ He squinted as he reached the top and grabbed the large green orb, hurling it to the ground where it shattered. It was over. Finally.

He climbed down, the sky miraculously clear. Everything looked like it was back to normal. Thank God.

Monday morning Dean pulled the Toyota up to the curb in front of the blue cape. Gus walked across the yard, only to have Sam and Dean run from the car to him and almost tackle him. Even Dean-as in, I-don't-do-chick-flick-moments-Dean-was hugging Gus, at least for the few seconds he could manage. Sam held on longer.

"Thank you. When my radio was playing Will Smith this morning I almost forgot how much I hated his music. It was finally something other than Smashing Pumpkins!" Dean grinned, "Gus, thank you. You have no idea how awesome you are right now."

"Seriously man, you are officially my favorite person right now. I ate breakfast without something catching on fire or getting electrocuted." Sam added, finally releasing his hug.

"I better be second." Dean smirked, the three walking to the beige car confident that things were finally back to their insane normal.


	21. Memorial

**Chapter 21: Memorial**

A few vignettes to help fill in some random back-story. I recently lost my grandmother and in the process I realized just how much simple memories matter. Here are a few memories from the Winchester-Singer family:

It is a strange thing, losing someone close to you. Even when they have gone you still feel them near. Their memories live on through you. Whether you choose to embrace the memories or let them fade, the impact remains. Our futures are written by those that will never see them, for their deeds guide us long beyond their time on this earth.

***1997***

It was a cold and wet Sunday. The air was thick and heavy as the rain fell against the foggy glass of the Winchester living room. It was a lazy afternoon. Dean and Sam both had finished their assignments for school, and it was too miserable out to do much aside from trudge from the car to church and back again. Bobby and Gus both had managed to catch a cold, so instead of going over to their house the three Winchesters had decided to have lunch at home. Cas was busy in the kitchen making chicken noodle soup, and was intending to drive over after their meal to deliver a large thermos of his restorative and delicious concoction to aid Bobby and Gus in their recovery.

As the rain continued pattering against the glass Sam stared at the ceiling, bored of the book he'd been reading and glanced over at Dean. His brother was working on a new set of gloves for himself, humming something that sounded vaguely like Metallica. Dean had taken up knitting a few years prior as a way to keep honing his fine motor skills (for even after the school intervention there was still some issues occasionally), and despite the traditionally feminine nature of the hobby-_I swear to God, Sammy, if you way one word your beanie baby collection is getting plastered on the front page of the school paper!-_he was quite good at it. It had become a strange tradition, but when the weather started to turn cold it wasn't uncommon to suddenly have a new sweater or scarf appear on your bed without warning-Dean's latest project completed and delivered without the necessity of emotionally confrontation to explain that it was him showing his affection. As Dean added another row to the scarlet gloves he looked at the wall clock. With the weather as dreary as it was the time seemed to creep along slowly as the dour sky grew ever greyer.

"They said at church that today was Mother's Day." Sam stated, trying to think of something to say to break the boredom of the afternoon. Even with the close relationship he had with his brother, it could become difficult to find things to talk about, after all there was only so many times they could retell the same stories.

"Yeah." Dean muttered, scowling when he realized he'd missed a stitch and had to correct the previous row.

"What was mom like?" Sam asked, staring at his knees.

Dean looked up at Sam's self-conscious shrug. He had never before asked about their mother. As children their lives were always focused on their father and the hunt, and around John mentioning Mary was a guaranteed cause for punishment. After his death the two had focused on adjusting to life with Cas, which eventually became their "normal" (even though none of them were normal, nor was constantly saving the town). With Cas there wasn't really a need to focus on their lives before. Their current lives were pretty good, and if not for the whole "vessels of the apocalypse" thing (and the "werewolf" and "skinwalker" things), the two teens might even be typical in the right light.

After a pause Dean exhaled, "She was pretty awesome. The exact opposite of Dad. She was nice, and funny, and always smelled like… I don't know what perfume, but it smelled nice. Kind of like flowers, I guess." He smiled, "You'd've loved her Sammy. She loved you. I remember when Mom and Dad came home from the hospital with you. You were tiny then, instead of a gigantor werewolf." Sam rolled his eyes. "Well, you are. Anyway, the look in her eyes when she held you, it was way more than just love. She was proud of you. I don't know why, but she always had that look when she was around you. When I held you for the first time she said, 'Dean, this is your little brother Sam. I know you two are going to great things together.' I guess she was right. I mean, hell, I haven't even graduated yet and we've saved the town a couple dozen times…" Dean trailed off, his voice cracking as he smiled, "You know you've got her smile. I wish she could've seen it on you."

Sam sat quietly as he watched his older brother blink fervently. Even if it was an emotional topic emotion be damned. _Dean Winchester doesn't do chick-flick moments!_ "Thank you Dean."

"Yeah, it's whatever. Now let me focus, I need to fix this row."

***1992***

The taxi pulled up to the front of the two story brick building. Bobby stepped out, then helped Gus out of the back. The ride from their hotel hadn't been long, but it was never exactly comfortable riding in a taxi, regardless of how short the ride was. Shaded Elms was a specialty retirement facility. They specialized in dementia and Alzheimer's. The hundred-or-so residents were mostly in their seventies and eighties, though some were much older, and were kept under lock and key to prevent them from getting lost or hurting themselves. Bobby had had to call the week before to get approval to visit, as the home ran background checks and made sure that any visitors were safe to interact with the residents. As the two padded across the thick beige carpet to the welcome desk Gus looked around. The building was vaguely familiar, as had most of the town been.

When Castiel had altered his memories to eliminate the bad there were quite a few blanks. The remaining memories were hazy and hard to pin down, but he could visualize places and names occasionally. This was one of them. And he was about to meet his last living blood relative here.

"Robert and Gus Singer here to visit Nancy Daugherty." Bobby stated to the woman at the desk. She typed something on her computer before turning to him.

"It looks like you have both been approved by our system. We have a few rules here. First, please keep your voices low and avoid creating excitement; second, no taking photos with flash enabled; and finally, be patient, the residents may have difficulty understanding, so allow time for them to think." She smiled, handing Bobby and Gus name badges. "Enjoy your visit. She is in room 211, upstairs to the left."

As Gus affixed the name badge he glanced around the hallways. The beige carpet continued endlessly in each direction, and the sterile walls with yellowing wallpaper did nothing to help the place seem less depressing. Bobby pressed the button for the elevator as the two slowly crept to the second floor, then with a ding they departed the steel and wood-paneled box into another identical corridor. Room 211 was at the end of the hallway. It was identical to all the other doors, a solid wooden slab with a room number and single plaque stating the resident, 'Nancy Daugherty'.

Gus knocked on the door. There was no reply. Bobby shrugged, trying the handle. It was open (it was likely that the doors had no locks in this building), so he gently pushed it in. Inside a small woman was sitting facing the window in an overstuffed chair. The room was comfortable; a double bed was against the wall, as well as a dresser. There was a television in the corner and a bathroom off to the side.

"Hello, Mrs. Daugherty?" Bobby said hesitantly.

"Yes, come in." She said, not turning from her seat.

Bobby motioned for Gus to come closer, and the two walked up to the chair. The wizened woman was staring out the window at a back garden, smiling in the morning sun. "It's a lovely day. I can't believe how nice the weather is for November."

Gus frowned, turning to Bobby. "It's March."

"Oh, is it? Then I guess I have to start thinking about birthdays. My husband and son are both born in April." She looked at Gus. "You know, you look a lot like William. Are you in school with him?"

Later that afternoon the two returned to the hotel. "William was my father's name." Gus said, sitting down on his bed. "He's been dead for a few years and hadn't been ten for decades."

Bobby sighed, sitting down beside the young teen, "Dementia can be a difficult disease. It doesn't take everything all at once; usually it starts with the newer things and works backwards. Chances are she can't remember your father as an adult. She probably doesn't realize that she has a grandson."

"She can't remember me?" Gus said, crestfallen.

"I don't think so."

The next few visits were the same. Nancy thought that it was 1958. She believed she was on vacation, that her husband and son were still alive, and that _Ike ought to drop the bomb on those commies already!_ Gus was learning about his grandfather and father, but the source unfortunately could not remember him at all. The last visit ended with her telling a story about how her husband had saved up to buy their first house.

"When we first got married it was right after the war. James had just gotten back from the Pacific and had decided that the first thing he was going to do was propose to me. He walked off the plane and got on one knee right in front of all those other men. He didn't have a ring, but it didn't matter. When he asked of course I said yes, and we were married five months later.

His father owned a shoe store in town, so he returned to working there. I had worked in a munitions plant during the war, but with the men back we left our jobs and went to do other things. I've always kept busy. Right now Gina's covering for me at the firm, but when I get back I know Mr. Thompson will say, 'Nancy, it's good to have you back'. He's a very nice man, and he looks quite nice in those new suits-you know, those ones made of polyester.

Anyway, we scrimped and saved and managed to finally get a house of our own instead of that tiny apartment. We still live there-it's a real grand place. 136 Colb Drive. We're the ones with the Edsel out front and the pink mailbox. James said he was going to have to put on an addition for the second floor, but right now it works okay. We only have Will's room up there, and the other half is unfinished right now."

She blinked for a minute, tilting her head slightly. "No. That's not right. We sold that house…"

She turned to Gus, "Billy? Is that you?"

"Yes." Gus knew he had once been Billy.

"I'm sorry I'm a bit forgetful. Come over and give me a hug." She opened her arms. Gus stooped down and allowed her to fold herself around his torso.

"Mrs. Daugherty, it's time for dinner. We have to ask your guests to please leave." A nurse said, poking her head in the door.

"Okay. Goodbye Billy. I love you." She said smiling.

"I love you too."Gus smiled, his eyes glistening.

***1994***

"Cas, do you have a birthday?" Dean asked as he brought a chip up to his mouth, realizing that up to that point the family had neglected to celebrate one for him.

"Well, the birthday of my former vessel was October 23rd, but the memories I were given by my brethren were that my birthday was July 5th. As such that is what it says on all official forms for my person." Cas stated, shuffling the deck of cards they'd been using to play poker.

"Cas, that's in less than a week." Sam chimed in, taking a sip from his soda. "We've got to do something to made up for the half-dozen birthdays we've missed."

"It's really not necessary. I am not accustomed to it, and I am fine without one." Cas stated.

Sam looked over at Dean, quickly signing; _Well now I feel like shit. How did it take us this long to realize that Cas should have a birthday?_

_Sammy, we never really did the whole 'normal' thing. I'm honestly kinda amazed we know our own birthdays. But you are right, it was pretty shitty of us not to realize that he should have a birthday._

_We've got to do something._

_Like what? Throw a surprise party? You know how jumpy Cas is when surprised. Thank God he can't smite anymore because humanity has taken away a good bit of his stoicism._

_Dean, come on. We owe it to him. We'll do something small with Bobby and Gus and have some cake and drinks, maybe a few gifts. _Sam pled with round eyes.

"Fine." Dean said, crossing his arms.

And so they planned. Dean managed to get a few decorations not themed for the Fourth while Sam got the food organized. Bobby and Gus got the house cleaned and on the morning of July 5th Cas was unsuspectingly led into the Singer living room.

"Why are the lights dimmed?"

"SURPRISE!" Gus and Bobby yelled, popping out from behind the sofa.

Bobby quickly dropped back down as Cas launched a nearby book at him and shoved Sam and Dean behind him. Cas processed the situation a moment before blushing and responding, "I apologize. Thank you…"

"You're welcome. But please no more throwing my books. That one is worth more than my house."

After cake and gifts (nothing special, a new shirt and some books to read for Cas) the five sat around the back patio table enjoying the warm early-evening light.

"So Cas, how was your first birthday party?" Dean smirked.

Cas rolled his eyes, "Well, despite being '46' I still feel quite good." He smiled, "Mostly because of being here with all of you."

"The feeling is mutual. We love you too." Sam said, smiling. "Even if Dean's too macho to admit it."

"Shut up. You guys can have your chick-flick moment, I'll just stick to being me."

"An emotionally repressed teenage boy who refuses to tell anyone he loves them because he thinks it'll make him look like a girl?" Sam said, slyly grinning.

Dean huffed, "At least I'm more open than dad."

"Everyone is more open than he was." Sam said, trailing off. A pause followed where the two brothers tried to push back into their minds everything that had happened in those long four years.

Cas smiled as he clasped an arm around each boy's shoulder. "Let's not think about that right now. How about we finish off the rest of those left-over fireworks?"

"Dibs on lighting the aerial ones!" Dean shouted.

"No way hot-shot." Bobby replied, "I've taken you to the hospital enough times. We aren't going because of something as stupid as a firework mishap." He adjusted his hat as he stood up. It was summer. It was good.


	22. Prom

**Chapter 22: Prom**

"Can we please stop taking pictures?" Dean sighed, crossing his arms in front of his rented tuxedo.

"Oh, come on, just a few more." Cas insisted, "It's not every day you go to senior prom!"

"Cas, I think you must've filled at least a half-roll of film at this point. Plus you have all those photos from junior prom, anyway. Can Ava and I please go?" Dean pleaded, clearly tired of the pictures.

Cas rolled his eyes, "Fine. But remember when your kids ask why there aren't any good photos it was you who made me stop taking pictures."

Dean and Ava exchanged a quick glance, "Don't worry, I don't think that will be a problem any time soon." Ava replied, given that both she and Dean intended to remain kid-free for a while. "But thank you for the pictures; I'm sure my mother would be doing the same if not for her conference in Seattle."

Dean and Ava walked out of the foyer as Cas smiled, "Have a good night! Be home before one!" he shouted as Dean started the Toyota and the two pulled away into the quiet night.

Sam sat in the bunker, signing quickly; _I'm telling you it's not going to be good._

_As if, how could they ruin Jurassic Park?!_ Carol returned, glad her many hours of practicing ASL were paying off. Even if that video course she ordered had been an absolute pain to follow along with.

_Did you not watch the trailers? It looks awful._

_Tell you what, when we see it and you get that same big dopey grin as you did with the other two movies seeing dinosaurs I'm going to capture it and prove you wrong._

Sam rolled his eyes; _They don't let cameras in the theater._

_They do when your sister is the assistant manager._

Sam tilted his head, _Wait, since when is she the assistant manager?_

_It's been almost a year._

Sam furrowed his brow, _Then why have I been paying for us to see movies? _

_Because you're a gentleman and you weren't listening when I told you about her promotion._

_So you're getting back at me for not listening._

_Yup._ She nodded, her plastic flower clips bobbing as she did so.

_So I'm out of $40. You made your point, I promise I'll listen better._

_Thank you._

"Don't wanna be your monkey wrench, one more indecent accident. I'd rather leave than suffer this. I'll never be your monkey wrench…"

The music filtered through the talkative crowd as the junior and senior classes of Ford Secondary mingled in the decorated gymnasium. Ava had chaired the decoration committee and with the year's theme of "Past Future" the entire room had been retro-fitted to look like something out of the Jetsons. Granted, there were still streamers and balloons, but cardboard panels painted in silver and various fake robots led to the atmosphere looking like a somewhat passable movie set from a 1950s B-scifi movie.

"Alright everyone! Don't forget to cast your vote for king and queen at the ballot box as we continue our music tonight!" The DJ announced, "Ten minutes to ten and we're going to go to an oldie but a goodie requested by Dean Winchester."

"You requested a song?" Ava turned to Dean. "Since when do you participate in stuff like this? Last year you just bitched about how they didn't play any Metallica."

"They didn't." Dean scowled, remembering the lousy DJ from the previous year, "But yeah, I did this time." He smirked, feigning innocence.

"Oh thinkin' about all our younger years. There was only you and me, we were young and wild and free…" The speakers rang out.

"Wait a minute. Is this the song from that Valentine's Day dance in third grade?" Ava raised an eyebrow, a half-puzzled look melting away as Dean blushed slightly. "Oh my God, you are such a romantic dork! Come on, we have to dance."

Dean's brow shot upward as he latched onto the table, knowing exactly what was coming next. _Nope. No way. NO!_ "I…"

Ava grabbed his arm and after prying him off of the table managed to drag him from the side of the gym into the center, "You danced last time they played this song…"

"Yeah, back when no one realized how much I sucked at dancing." Dean glanced at the other couples, all lost in their own worlds.

Ava grabbed Dean and pulled him tighter, resting her head against his shoulder as he swayed, "I don't think you're a bad dancer."

"Well, if it's coming from you…" Dean rolled his eyes.

Ava snorted, quickly blushing. Dean grinned. Whenever he could manage to get her to snort it always made him laugh. She hated it, be he thought it was cute-even though he'd never admit it.

"I love you Dean." She said, her head resting against his shoulder.

Dean sighed, "I love you too."

Gus downed another cup of punch. _Figures that Cindy would get sick the day before prom. Literally everyone else has a date and I'm alone-fucking again… God, I have got to get some steady girlfriend, or boyfriend, well, someone…_ He glanced across the room. Dean and Ava were slow dancing in the middle of the gym as the clock ticked over to ten. They had played Dean's request, then followed it up with some slow-song by a boy band he didn't recognize. _Well, even though someone clearly spiked this punch I can't get drunk. Might as well try some chips…_

As Gus took a handful of chips from the bowl on the table the lights suddenly flickered before completely cutting out. Gus immediately was on guard. _What the hell?_

The DJ grinned, grabbing the microphone as most of the students looked around confused.

"Dean, what's going on?" Ava whispered, eyes darting around at the other confused students.

Before he could respond the DJ spoke, "Good evening students and faculty of Ford Secondary. My name is Uriel and I'm your new host for this evening." The doors slammed shut as he spoke.

_Shit, that's one of Cas' former siblings. _Dean grabbed Ava and started to work toward the back of the room, mercifully unnoticed.

"For those of you who don't know me, I'm an angel of the lord. But I know some of you have already let angels into your hearts…" Suddenly around a dozen students shifted to turn directly facing Dean and Ava.

Dean froze. _Well, fuck._

"And for those who haven't, we've actually worked out a little deal with some of our fallen counterparts." Another twenty or so students suddenly flashed black eyes as Dean suddenly felt the urge to urinate.

"So, for those of you not currently hosting a supernatural being I advise staying out of the way. We're getting Dean Winchester, and if you get in our way we will end you."

_Did you finish that report for Mr. Flanders' class?_ Sam signed, bouncing a tennis ball against the bunker wall as Carol sketched him in her notebook.

_Almost, I just need to add my citations. It always takes forever to get them right._

_You're not kidding, I think it takes me longer to cite than to write._ Sam caught the ball, then tossed it again, this time it bounced and landed out of his reach, under the bed. He growled as he got off the bed and started rooting around for it. As he grabbed the ball Carol's phone rang.

"Great. It's probably my dad wondering why I'm still out." She sighed, "Stay quiet for a minute, okay?"

_I can't exactly talk right now anyway. _Sam signed, wearing a bemused look.

"Good point." She replied, flipping open the phone, "Hello, this is Carol."

"_HOLY SHIT. THANK GOD SOMEONE ANSWERS THEIR FUCKING PHONE!"_

"Dean? Is that you?" Carol put the phone on speaker and held it where Sam could hear.

"_YES IT'S ME. LISTEN, SHIT'S GOING DOWN AT THE SCHOOL. ANGELS AND DEMONS WORKING TOGETHER-REGGIE I SAID _IRON COOKWARE_-GET CAS, BOBBY, AND SAMMY-AND DAVE I GUESS- AND GET DOWN HERE NOW! WE NEED… FUCK, JESSICA! USE THAT SALT TO MAKE A CIRCLE AROUND US!"_ Dean's signal cut out as Carol looked up at Sam, her face noticeably paler.

"Sam, we need to get to the school."

_YOU need to get to the school. I can't leave this bunker. _He signed, adamantly sitting down on the bed.

"Seriously, now is not the time for one of your 'I'm a monster' moments!"

_Carol, I'm literally a six foot six furry beast with massive fangs and claws. What am I if I'm not a monster?_

Carol rubbed her hand down her face as she sighed, "You are Samuel William Winchester. My boyfriend and Dean's brother. Do you seriously care more about being a 'monster' than saving your brother?!"

_No!_

"Then stop being a self-loathing pussy and come on!" Carol swung open the door to the bunker as Sam backed into the rear wall.

_Stay back! I don't want to hurt you. _He signed frantically.

Carol marched forward, inches from Sam's face, and slapped him across the snout. Sam blinked in disbelief as she grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a kiss.

_Holy fuck!_

"Now come on! We have to get your uncles." Carol walked out of the room as Sam followed cautiously; each new step one he had never taken before in this form.

Bobby's reaction to seeing Sam outside the bunker was alarmed to say the least. After getting the silver blade away from Sam's neck, Carol explained what all was going on. Soon the three of them along with Dave were sitting in a minivan that had been dropped off for an inspection peeling across town toward Cas. As the cool night air sped past Sam hoped that by some miracle Dean was still alright.


	23. Prom II

**Chapter 23: Prom II**

_Fuck. How the hell is it that every fucking time something cool happens these shit-heads get involved. God damn supernatural bastards!_ Dean gritted his teeth as he pushed the last of the stainless steel counters in front of the entry doors. The only doors left out of the school kitchen led to a storage room and the main hallway. At least with the double doors barred they'd limit how many angels and demons could get into the kitchen. He'd had the fifteen others take care of salting the room and making sigils out of condiments. But even with the efforts it was clear that the combined forces of heaven and hell were going to break through sooner rather than later, and Dean was not happy about that fact.

"Okay, we should be safe for a bit until we manage to get reinforcements." Dean remarked, glancing at the other party-goers turned survivors.

"Reinforcements? Like who, the army?!" A clearly freaked out junior stated, nervously fiddling with his tie.

"No, his uncle and my dad." Gus replied, cracking his neck after having had to help move everything.

"No offense, as I get that the whole supernatural thing is your family's weird hobby, but I think that there's a bit much there for two middle-aged guys." A girl in an aqua gown stated.

"And what about Sam? Isn't he supposed to be a hunter too?" A tow-headed boy with a torn suit coat asked, shifting his weight as he alternated which hand was holding the large iron frying pan.

"Well…" Gus began.

Before Dean could cut him off a slamming sound was heard against the doors. Apparently their hideaway had been discovered.

"Hey Dean! Get your ass out here!" Coach Wells shouted. "I knew you sucked at baseball, but I never would've guessed you could be a pansy in more than one way. Face us like a man, or we'll be forced to kill you like the dog you are."

_Great. I wonder when they found that out…_ Dean furrowed his brow, _Come on guys where are you?_

After picking up Cas the blue and wood-paneled Dodge Caravan arrived in the parking lot of Ford Secondary school. Outside the building looked relatively normal, if not for the fact that all the teens mingling about sported black eyes.

"So, what exactly are we going to do?" Carol whispered, eyeing the half-dozen tuxedo-clad seniors patrolling the sidewalk around the school.

"Well, I really hadn't thought that far in advance, to be honest." Bobby replied, "But I suppose we could try to exorcise the demons…" He frowned, "But I have no idea how to get rid of the angels."

"I know how." Cas replied, all eyes in the car suddenly focused on him. "To banish them from their vessels you have to say a prayer in enochian. Though, in order for it to work it would require all of them to hear it at the same time. If some don't they would remain and likely seek vengeance."

"Okay-seeing as you're the only one who speaks angel you're doing that. I can handle the demon exorcisms; I've dealt with enough of them." Bobby paused, "But what about Dean?"

_I'm on it._ Sam signed.

"Sam, it's not that we don't trust you-but you have to remember, this is the first time you've ever left the bunker like this, are you sure you can handle doing that?" Bobby stated, somewhat worried over Sam's control of his werewolf state given the new experiences and adrenaline surely coursing through his system.

_I'm certain. If anyone's going to fuck with Dean, I'll stop it._

"Perhaps I should accompany Sam, given that the hosts are his friends and schoolmates, I doubt he wants to tear someone limb from limb… But it never hurts to have additional assistance to keep the feral self in check." Dave commented from the last row of seats.

"I'll go with Sam too." Carol stated, "Bobby and Cas you two can focus on getting the angels and demons taken care of, we'll get Dean."

"Alright." Cas commented grimly, "Everyone please stay safe."

Dean was not doing great. Yes, the barrier was holding, but given the fact that angels were not stopped by salt lines and his sigils were weak and likely mis-remembered, he was panicking as the banging on the door stopped and was replaced by an altogether more powerful sounding thudding.

_Great, I'm going to die in a rented tux in my high-school cafeteria. _

The demons apparently hadn't been expecting Sam, because when the six-foot-six werewolf exited the minivan he was fairly certain a handful of them stared in disbelief. In all fairness it was an odd assortment. An ex-angel, a hunter, a werewolf, a massive black dog, and a small teenage girl in a yellow-striped dress wielding an iron bat.

"Hey assholes! Come and get it!" Carol yelled as Sam unleashed a sound halfway between a roar and howl.

"Remember-incapacitate and exorcise! No killing!" Bobby yelled as he dodged a teen and smacked another with his elbow.

Sam nodded, despite the bloodlust he knew better than hurting these people, they weren't the cause of Dean's harm, they were just vessels. Besides, most of them were just random high-schoolers caught in the middle of the same nightmare he was living.

By the time they fought from the lawn through the side entrance and got to the main lobby it was evident that the angels had left the demons to act as the defense while they busied themselves trying to get Dean out of wherever it was he had holed himself up. The hallways were full of possessed students and staff, and the demons were all throwing themselves at the group, trying to slow them down from reaching the angels.

"The main office is up ahead; you guys get to the PA and make that announcement! We'll hold off the demons and get to Dean!" Carol shouted, kicking a football player in the groin as she quickly exorcised him.

Bobby nodded and pulled Cas into the small office. The main office was surprisingly untouched compared to the rest of the ransacked building. Aside from a few file folders that were strewn about the receptionist's desk looked normal. The two slunk down the corridor past the copy room and teacher mailboxes towards the principal's office. Inside was the PA they needed.

Cas gingerly pressed open the door to reveal a dimly lit interior room. The room had heavy wood paneling and a large desk in the center with a silver microphone on top. As he reached to grab it he suddenly felt as if he was trapped in place, and turning to see Bobby noticed that his friend was also frozen.

"Well, brother, it has certainly been too long." Uriel smirked, stepping out from the copy room behind them, "Wouldn't want you to get any ideas, now."

"Hello Uriel. Still a massive dick, I see." Cas replied.

"Oh, watch that language! Little Thursday suddenly grew a pair after falling. No matter. It'll just make this more fun!" Uriel's eyes glowed as he smashed Bobby into the wall and drew Cas toward himself. "Any last words, traitor?"

_GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM CAS! _Sam charged into the room snarling, only to be launched into the ceiling.

Uriel rolled his eyes, "Seriously? What is with you Winchesters and trying to save people? You've already watched your mother die-now I guess it's time to watch your pathetic excuse of a fake father die as well."

"No!" Bobby yelled as Uriel unsheathed his sword.

Suddenly the lights in the room sparked to life before becoming overloaded. As the bulbs burst Uriel looked around, confused. As he glanced at Bobby the bookshelf behind him toppled over. It was enough of a distraction for him to temporarily release his grip on Sam and Bobby, the two falling to the ground. Cas acted quickly, grabbing the blade Uriel had been holding to his throat and using it to quickly stab his brother as he tried to get up.

As a light flashed and a pair of wings scorched itself into the linoleum Sam got up and wiped off his snout, a large red streak present under his nose.

"Sam… did you just?" Bobby began.

_No time. I've gotta get Dean. Do the exorcism thing._ He signed before running back into the hallway where an overrun Carol and Dave were busy with their own fight.

Dean Winchester had panicked exactly four times in his life. When he realized his childhood home was on fire and his mother was dead, when his father was dead, when Sam got bitten, and when he got bitten. Now was going to be time five. The demons had given up trying to get in, but the angels were still going strong, with their sigils now glowing bright yellow as the angelic presence was beginning to overload the very basic charms Dean had remembered.

"Dean! Just get it over with! I promise it'll hurt less if you give yourself up!" A bloodthirsty curdle seeped through the barricade as the prom-goers huddled in the center of the room. The thudding was now replaced with a screech as the doors flew off their hinges. The barricade fell over as the group stared in horror. The angels had broken through the main sigils. They were screwed. One of them deliberately walked over to Ava, grabbing her from in the circle.

"Let her go!" Dean charged forward, only to be pushed against the wall. The others stood still in shock.

"So this is the whore that Dean Winchester decided to fall in love with." The angel's face contorted into a sneer. "If your soul was still pure I would have tried to claim it at this point, trading her life for yours. But being a skinwalker, there is nothing left that has not been defiled." Its eyes glowed as it spoke, "You have ruined our plan for the last time. We are going to end you and your brother and restart. I am pleased to know that you will spend eternity alone and in pain in purgatory, Dean." As it cast Ava to the ground the school's speakers hummed to life as a string of syllables poured from the tinny 1970s speakers.

"No!" The angel turned and quickly ran toward the door, only to burst into a column of light as white smoke suddenly left its body. The room was still a moment as the group waited, the PA now in the hands of a different speaker. As Bobby banished the demons Dean could feel the tension leave his body. He collapsed to the ground, holding his head in his hands, relieved that he was no longer in mortal danger, as Sam and Carol ran into the room, with Dave not far behind.

"Ah! What the hell is that thing?!" A girl screamed, pointing at Sam.

"'That thing' is my brother." Dean groused, sitting back up.

_How are you Sammy?_

_I'm alive._

_That's all that really matters right now._


	24. The Aftermath

**Chapter 24: The Aftermath**

"Hello everyone." Dean said, staring out at the audience at the graduation ceremony. Normally the school held graduation in the gym, but due to a sudden increase in requests this year it was held outdoors in the stadium. There was an audience of nearly a thousand sitting in the bleachers. Cas and Sam were sitting next to Bobby in the front row of the home section. In the field the seniors were seated, along with the staff. Most of the seniors had some sort of bandage or sling, Dean was no exception. That fling into the wall had dislocated his shoulder and broken his wrist, so he was stuck wearing a cast as he spoke. Dean had been surprised when he had been asked to speak, but had agreed after Ava insisted.

"Most of you know me-I'm Dean Winchester. You know my family is full of hunters; we fight the supernatural forces of evil. A few weeks ago we fought angels and demons at prom. I mean, I know it's supposed to be a night you'll never forget, but come on." He coughed, "Anyway, the point is I want to say thank you. You haven't run us out of town, even after you discovered that we're hunters or that Sam is a werewolf. North Plains is the place I grew up, and I love it here, it's home." Dean smiled briefly, thinking about his family and how much had happened to them in the tiny town, "You guys rock, honestly. And because of that I wanted to be honest. I'm not human either…" Dean stepped back from the microphone and quickly shifted into his puppy form, then wriggled back into his gown before changing back. "Yeah…"

Most of the audience was stunned silent.

"But I just wanted to say that if you guys still want us around I promise we'll keep fighting. And if you don't, please don't kill us."

Dean winced at the large audience before a deafening round of applause began.

"I hope I can take that as a sign you want us to stay."

***2013***

"Happy birthday dear Will! Happy birthday to you!" The family sang as Will leaned over to blow out the candles on his cake.

"So, how's it feel to be six?" Dean asked.

"I dunno. I've only been six one day." He said, blinking as he fiddled with his glasses. His green eyes sparkled as he watched Sam cut a piece of chocolate cake and place it on his slice.

"Thanks dad!" He said, quickly tucking into the thick slice.

"You're welcome." Sam smiled, looking over at Carol who was trying to keep Fern from throwing cake at her cousins. The two-year old had recently discovered the joy of smashing food into others and had eyed up Cassie as her next target. It fell short, landing instead on the table with a plop.

After the cake the party moved into the living room where Will tore though his birthday gifts. Dean and Ava had gotten him a few shirts and a book on trains (his most recent interest), Bobby had gotten him a large pack of crayons and enough coloring and activity books to keep the young boy entertained until his next birthday, and Cas had gotten him a few new Thomas the Tank Engines.

"Where's uncle Gus?" Will asked, just realizing the absence when he was short a present.

"He should be here soon. Unfortunately being the mayor doesn't mean he has much time off." Carol smiled, "Why don't you play with your cousins and sister out back for a bit. When he gets here I'll call you back in."

"Okay!" As the children left the room the sound of four small sets of feet trampling the carpet of the new home echoed through the hallway, shortly followed by the sound of the sliding door into the backyard opening and shutting.

"Hard to believe he'll be starting first grade in a few weeks." Sam said, sitting down next to Ava on the sofa.

"First? Ava's in third! My little girl is as old as I was when we met!" Dean gestured to Ava.

"But heaven forbid the day she starts dating." Ava quipped, glancing at Dean.

Dean bristled at the thought and replied, "She's becoming a nun. No boys. Never."

"Uh-huh." Carol replied, sipping from her mug. "How are your kids doing with _everything._" Carol's tone made it clear they had shifted the discussion onto the fun of raising kids with supernatural powers.

"Most of the time I'm glad Cassie and Robbie just ended up as skinwalkers." Dean stated. "It's nice that I'm not the designated lap warmer when she needs someone to keep her warm during the winter-I might be a great furry heater, but it gets old fast-unfortunately the kids still can't totally control it."

Ava nodded, "Last week Ava accidentally turned when she was in the park. She got mad that a boy had taken her spot on the swings and ended up changing there and then. Thank God all the kids in her class know, and Julie was there to help her, but still…" She paused, "How's Fern been with the changes?"

Sam sighed, "Better than her brother. Skin-to-skin helps calm her down but the actual change hurts a lot, especially for kids. With all of us together it's easier to control them, but she doesn't like it. Will's normally in control now, but Fern's hit-or-miss." He looked over at Bobby, who had been fiddling with his phone to try to read a text from Gus, "Thanks again for letting us still use the bunker for the kids."

"No problem, you know I'd never say no."

A loud cry rang out from the backyard as the lights in the house flickered, the six adults hurried into the backyard to see Will crying in the middle of the yard, holding a broken toy while Robbie guiltily hid in the playhouse. Before anyone could even ask what happened the porch light exploded into small pieces of glass.

Sam quickly scooped up Will and managed to calm him down, "What happened?"

"He… he… broke my… train!" Will whimpered.

"I didn't! It isn't broke! Look!" Robbie quickly snapped together the two halves of the train that had been on the ground.

"It's alright, see? Everything's fine." Sam stated, showing the intact train. It was at that moment that the doorbell rang. "I think your uncle Gus might be here! Come on, let's get inside and say hello." Sam gingerly put Will down as the boy scampered back inside to get the door. As the other kids went inside Sam nervously turned to the others.

"What was with the light bulbs?" Dean asked. "Is there a demon nearby or something?"

"No. That was Will." Sam led the adults inside, "Remember when I started getting my powers how lights started randomly going off when I was mad?"

"Not particularly." Cas commented, "But, I do remember when you first started using them it took a while to control them." Cas was referring to Sam's high-school years, it took him a long time to learn how to concentrate and use his powers.

"Oh shit." Carol's eyes suddenly widened. "That was when you accidentally set my dresser on fire."

Sam's eyebrows shot upward as he walked into the living room. Will was contently unwrapping a large gift box from Gus.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," Gus frowned, "What's up? You look like you saw a different vampire giving your kid a present."

"Will has powers." Sam stated, "Which means…"

The power cut out as Will excitedly screamed at Gus' gift: it was a large model train set.

"…This is going to be a LONG few years."

The End!

Hello everyone! Note from the author here! Thanks again for reading and commenting. Just wanted to get a survey from you all. I currently have a few other stories in the works and I wanted to see which you wanted next.

Option 1: Sam and Dean AU as runaway teens. They end up in Florida where Dean takes care of Sam on his own. Sam has asthma and comes to realize the level of abuse Dean had to put up with, and that they fled because Dean risked his own life to save his when John had said to leave him behind on a hunt. Likely around 8-10 chapters.

Option 2: Sam and Dean investigate a series of Final Destination-eque deaths in a small town. Likely set around season 2 or 3, probably 5-8 chapters.

Option 3: This is a new one, and will likely be a _LONG_ one. AU where both John and Mary died in 1983. Sam and Dean were adopted and lived basically normal lives. Dean's a teacher and Sam's a researcher in a college's anthropology department. They don't know about the supernatural until after Sam turns 23 and starts having premonitions. Sam goes to a psychic in Lawrence (three guesses who and the first two don't count) and discovers the truth behind their parents deaths. They end up doing research into Sam's condition and get dragged into the supernatural, fighting to save Sam and try to get back to normal. Will feature later appearances by Bobby, Cas, and a few other fun guests!


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